Through Cursed Eyes
by BrownEyedGrl97
Summary: What if Killian Jones was in season one and was part of the evil queens curse? Killian and Emma had felt that they have met before… Credit goes to @lovescaptainswan on Tumblr for this prompt and summary. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Mr Jones

**Disclaimer: As much as I wish that I did, I do not own any characters from Once Upon a Time. This fic is the product of observing select scenes from the show, writing down the dialogue, and twisting some of the events to include the romance of Captain Swan. I do not claim that all of this writing is mine. If pieces of dialogue sound familiar, then that is most likely because it is from one of the original episodes. The writers are as much a part of this fic as I am.**

 **This fic follows directly along the first season; many scenes have been skipped, and in some cases entire episode plots will be skipped. Thanks for reading, and hopefully enjoy :)**

 **(Please read notes at the end as well)**

* * *

Morning light streamed in through the window of the small room, coloring the back of Emma's eyelids orange. She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, forgetting where she was and why in the haze of sleep. Finally, the faint scent of moth balls and a clock chiming in the distance reminded her that she was not back home in Boston, and that these were not her familiar satin sheets. Slowly, she opened her eyes and was immediately assaulted by gaudy floral wallpaper. Sighing, Emma got up and looked out into the town square. For such a small town, there was quite a bit of activity already taking place in the streets as everyone hurried to work. The clock tower showed that it was 8:00. Weird. She could have sworn the kid had said that the old clock didn't work.

Emma looked down at herself and sighed again. She had slept in her tank top and underwear, and the rest of her ensemble lay messily on the chair across from the bed. She would have to wear the same outfit again since she had just made the decision to stay the night before. Maybe she could ask the old lady whether there were any shops in town she could buy clothes. Then again, it might be better to ask her granddaughter where to shop after seeing her taste in style last night. Emma had just laced her boots over her jeans when there was a knock on the door. Wondering if the older woman made morning visits to her guests, she opened the door with a wary expression. The mayor greeted her with a smile and a basket of red apples.

"Did you know the Honey Crisp tree is the most vigorous and hardy of all apple trees?"

* * *

Emma made her way down to the diner, still annoyed by the mayor's previous threats. All the mayor had done was make her want to stay more. She held the apple in her hand and sat down next to a grumpy man reading a newspaper at the counter. It was the drunk from the sheriff's station- Leroy? He looked up from reading and snorted when she sat down next to him; he laid the paper down in front of her and walked to the diner's exit. Emma picked it up and was surprised and annoyed to see her own face. The picture did not flatter her, nor did the headline. _Stranger Destroys Historic Sign: Alcohol Involved._ She just knew the mayor had something to do with this. The young woman in red shorts set a cup of hot chocolate in front of her. The smell of cinnamon was easily distinguished. Emma frowned.

"I did not order this." The woman gave her a mischievous smile.

"I know. You have an admirer." Emma looked around and her eyes fell instantly on the sheriff. He shook his head and nodded to the booth behind him. Henry smiled at her.

"Don't you have school?" she said, getting up with mug and apple in hand.

"Duh, I'm a kid. Walk me?" Henry put on his back pack and waited for her with a smug look.

* * *

"So everyone here is a fairytale character. They just don't know it?" Emma asked as they walked to the school.

"That's the curse. Time's been frozen until you got here." She tried to take a bite of the apple. "Hey! Where'd you get that? Don't eat that!" Henry grabbed the apple and threw it over his shoulder. Emma gave him a disbelieving look.

"So for decades, people have been walking around in a haze, not aging, with screwed-up memories, stuck in a cursed town that kept them oblivious," she continued, hoping to keep the kid amused. He smiled at her.

"I knew you'd get it! That's why we need _you_ ," He gave her an adoring look that Emma wasn't sure if she was comfortable with or not. She decided to direct the subject away from her again. She pointed to the red-haired man with glasses walking his Dalmatian.

"So that's Jiminy Cricket," she asked, knowing his answer.

"Yep! Dr. Hopper here." She looked at the other people passing around them. She pointed behind them at the curvy woman that worked in the diner.

"And that? Who is she?" Henry looked behind them.

"That's Ruby. Also known as Red Riding Hood," he told her, waiting for her response. Emma smirked.

"If she's Red Riding Hood, then how is her Grandma still around. Didn't a wolf eat her?"

"Not all stories are what they seem," Henry told her mysteriously. She looked at him for a moment before returning to their game.

"And them?" She pointed to the drunk and the man talking animatedly to him in front of a store. The other man had to stop as he was overcome with a bout of sneezes.

"That's Leroy and Mr. Clark. A.K.A., Grumpy and Sneezy. And yes," he interrupted her before she could say anything, "-they are dwarves in the other land." Emma rolled her eyes. "Let's see here. There's Geppetto. The Blue Fairy. Happy. Dr. Whale," Henry continued. They were only a couple of feet away from the school now. Emma was about to change the subject again when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

A group of men across the street were struggling to lift a crate onto the flatbed of a truck. From the look of the truck's other contents, Emma guessed they were heading to the harbor. The men shouted at each other, trying to readjust whatever they were carrying. Her eyes focused on a man that manifested from behind the truck, yelling orders to the others. She felt her breath catch for second.

He had a muscular build and strode with confidence and poise; his walk told her that he was in charge. The man ran a hand through his dark hair-making it even more disheveled-as if he were thinking; his other hand lay stiff at his side. She heard his accented voice ring with authority as he commanded the men to set down the crate, and felt something stir in her stomach when he briefly glanced over.

"Henry. Who's that?" Emma interrupted the kid just as they reached the edge of the campus. Henry looked to where she was pointing now. He smirked.

"Oh him? That's Mr. Jones. But he's really Captain Hook." Emma scoffed.

" _Captain Hook?_ As in the one-handed pirate with a bad perm? _That guy_ is supposed to be Peter Pan's enemy?" she said, finally breaking down and smiling at the ridiculousness of their conversation. Henry just gave her a serious look.

"Yes. Everything I'm saying is true. You're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. See?" He gave her some pages from the storybook. Emma gave him a sad look and tried to deny it.

"Listen. I know the hero doesn't believe at first. If they did, it wouldn't be a very good story. If you need the proof, take them. Read them. Just don't let my mom see. She doesn't know who you are. If she did. It would be bad." His tone had turned very serious.

"I gotta go. But I'll find you later and we can get started," he started to run to the school. "I knew you'd believe me!"

"I never said I did!" she protested.

"Why else would you be here?" he shouted over his shoulder. Emma pursed her lips, not sure whether she should smile or not. She looked behind her at the man again- Mr. Jones. She wasn't sure why, but he looked oddly familiar to her. She turned away to face Mary Margaret, just as he looked over again, his eyes lingering for a moment.

* * *

Emma walked into the diner feeling proud of herself. She would never forget the look on the mayor's face as she cut down her stupid apple tree. Of course, there would be consequences, but right now she didn't care. In fact, she was feeling so good, Emma decided to have a drink to celebrate. She turned around to order and smacked face first into someone's chest.

"Sorry," she began to stutter, just as she heard an accented voice say, "Pardon me, love." Emma looked up and found herself staring into eyes so blue, she thought she might drown in them. It was the man from her walk. Mr. Jones.

Up close, she found it even harder to believe that he was supposed to be Captain Hook. There was definitely no signs of the man ever having a perm, and his handsome features definitely outdid the cartoon villain's disproportioned ones. She let her eyes roam his face up and down. Strong jawline, straight nose, full lips. His eyebrows seemed to be permanently turned up, giving him a mischievous expression. A scar ran across one of his cheeks, and she had the urge to trace her finger along it and ask him about it. The corner of his lips quirked up and Emma finally realized how close she was still standing and clumsily stepped back. What was wrong with her?

"You'll have to forgive me. I was on my way out and did not notice you there. Though looking now, I don't see how I could have missed you," he continued, his voice slowing down to a flirtatious tone. Emma's head cleared fairly quickly when he said that. She wasn't going to fall for that crap. Ignoring his comment, she shook her head and offered half a smile.

"No. It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." He raised an eyebrow at her lame apology, the corner of his lips still turned up into a smirk. His eyes focused in on something to the right of her face, and she stilled as he reached up and touched her hair. Her eyes widened as he seemingly played with a strand for a moment, then pulled away, a twig between his fingers.

"Been having some fun in the woods?" he asked casually, still displaying the twig. Emma let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Woods? No. Fun? Definitely," she said, grinning at the memory. He mimicked her, flicking the bit of apple tree away.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new to town?" he asked casually, leaning in slightly. She took another step back.

"Just visiting…for a week," Emma said, her grin fading a little and her eyes searching his again. For a color that was normally associated with being cold, his eyes were quite warm at the moment.

"Then allow me to introduce me self. Killian Jones, at your service." He gently took her hand and bent down to kiss her knuckles, never averting his gaze. She swallowed, her smile gone.

"I'm-" she began, but was interrupted.

"Ms. Swan? Oh dear, I was just about to go upstairs to find you," the old lady, or Granny, said as she hurried over. Her eyes looked back and forth between the two, noticing how close they were standing. Emma took another few steps back and Killian leaned away.

"Maybe we should talk in private?" Granny suggested, looking at Killian worriedly.

"No it's fine. What's wrong?" Emma said, deciding to ignore the overconfident man. Maybe he would leave her alone if she did.

"Well, Ms. Swan. Oh my, this is terribly awkward. But I need to ask you to leave. I'm afraid we have a no-felons rule. It turns out it's a city ordinance," the older woman said with an apologetic tone. Emma saw from the corner of her eye that Killian had perked up at the word "felon." She smiled bitterly and turned her full attention to the other woman.

"Let me guess. The mayor's office just called to remind you," she said, not surprised when Granny looked down guiltily and nodded her head slightly.

"You can gather your things, but I need your room key back." Emma waited a moment, the forced smile still in place, then sighed.

"I guess I'll just grab my clothes and return the key," she said. Granny gave her an apologetic look and turned and walked away. Emma stood there, fuming over the injustice of it. Mayor Mills had just played another move.

"No- _felons_ rule?" She turned back towards Killian, hoping her expression would make him back off. He raised both eyebrows at her, not daring to smile.

"Why would you care?" she retorted. He swallowed and looked away for a second before looking back with a sympathetic expression.

"It appears you are having quite the day today, Swan. Perhaps me buying you a drink is in order?" he asked, but there was no sign of flirting in his voice now. Before she could reject him, a sharp laugh came from over his shoulder. They both looked at the other man. Leroy again.

"I don't know if you should be offering that one a drink, brother. Haven't you seen the paper?" he said, sneering at the two. Killian's eyes lit up with recognition, before his face grew hard.

"I wouldn't be the one talking, _mate_ ," he told the man frostily, indicating the beer in his hand. Leroy scowled and slowly set his drink down. Emma interrupted before the two men could properly start whatever was happening. She laid her hand on Killian's shoulder and he jumped slightly, as if she had shocked him. Their eyes met again.

"Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really in the drinking mood right now." She began to walk away. He cleared his throat and she turned back.

"If you be needing a place to stay, there is always room-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Again, thanks, but no. No offense but I literally just met you. You know what they say about strangers and all that," she told him. Before he could say anything else, she walked away, heading upstairs to get her few belongings, her resolve to stay growing with every step she took.

* * *

 **A/N: Credit for this story idea, the summary, and the cover picture go to lovescaptainswan on Tumblr. She is amazing, and definitely loves Captain Swan. Original post for this prompt:** _post/139976108003/a-captain-swan-au-what-if-killian-jones-was-in_


	2. See You Again

**Hello again! Thank you to all who have followed/favorited this story. I get unreasonably excited every time I get an email informing me that someone has reviewed or followed. I already have quite a few pages of this story written, but I've divided it up into chapters, so this story will come in short installments. This chapter is very short. However, it contains one of my favorite scenes so far (which is also why I'm posting the next chapter so quickly), so hopefully you'll like it too.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of the characters. The writers of the show are just as much a part of this fic as I am.**

 **Thanks for reading! I love love love reviews!**

* * *

Even after she had told Killian that she wouldn't stay with a stranger, here she was a day later, planning to move in with Mary Margaret Blanchard. A woman she had only known for three days. It made no sense to just move in with her, but there was something about her that made Emma trust her. Really, she had been the only one to comfort her after everything, and she was willing to _offer_ her home to a stranger. Emma wanted to say these were the only reasons why she had agreed to the arrangement, but she knew that deep down, there was something else about the woman that she couldn't put her finger on. When she woke up the next morning, the smell of eggs and bacon cooking drifted upstairs. She put on the same tank top and sweater outfit and headed downstairs. Mary Margaret had her back turned to her. A plate of bacon, eggs, and toast sat in front of one of the bar stools. Emma slowly walked up, and Mary Margaret finally turned around, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. She smiled at Emma and indicated for her to sit and eat.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought our first official day living together should have a good start," Mary said, grabbing her own plate and sitting next to Emma.

"Um, thanks. This looks great," Emma said, not sure what to say after such a kind gesture. She picked up the hot chocolate and took a quick sip, then furrowed her brows. "Cinnamon?" Mary Margaret automatically began to apologize.

"Oh well, yes. I hope you don't mind. It's just a little quirk of mine," she began, but Emma stopped her.

"No. It's okay. Really," she said, surprised by the similarity between her and the teacher. Mary Margaret smiled and then noticed Emma's clothes.

"Have you been wearing that outfit since you got here?" Mary asked. Emma looked at the sweater and shrugged.

"I didn't think I would stay when I got here; I thought I was just dropping off Henry then going back to Boston. I've already called my last landlord to have him ship my stuff over." Emma picked up her plate and offered to take Mary's, then went to the sink to start doing dishes. She could already feel the beginning of a routine forming. It was nice.

"Speaking of Henry, how is that going? Are you still walking him to school?" Mary asked. She walked over and started drying the dishes after Emma cleaned them.

"Oh yeah. I know his mom won't be happy, but I'm still worried about him. This obsession with fairytale characters… I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged him so much at the therapist's," Emma said, trailing off. Mary Margaret pursed her lips, then smiled.

"Well, if you're going to walk him today, you better finish getting dressed. It's almost time to go." Mary went to her bedroom and appeared shortly with a cardigan and a briefcase. She smiled again at Emma as she headed to the door. "I have to go. It's never good when the teacher's late."

Emma hurried to get ready, fixing her make up the best she could and pulling her curls into a quick ponytail before grabbing her jacket and leaving. Henry was already waiting downstairs.

"I heard my mom say something about you moving in with Ms. Blanchard. I'm glad you finally decided to stay," he said, already walking towards campus. Emma tried not to be too creeped out that the mayor already knew about her living arrangements. That meant that she was being watched.

"Well. I figured if we were going to make this Operation Cobra…thing work, then I should probably stick around for a while," Emma said, raising the corner of her mouth. Henry beamed, then mused for a moment.

"Do you think we should have code names? Like, to go undetected when talking in the open? What should I call you?" he asked.

"Oh, um, you can just call me…Emma," she said lamely, trying not to notice the disappointment on the kid's face.

"Yeah, okay… well. That's my bus. I'll see you later…Emma," he said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Then he turned away and ran to the bus before it could take off. Emma sighed, feeling bad for letting the kid down. Again. She was about to head back to the apartment, or maybe Granny's diner, when the sheriff car rolled up in front of her.

"Let me guess. You're here to arrest me again," Emma tried to say jokingly, but it only came out bitter.

"No, this time I'm here to offer you a job," Graham said, and Emma raised her eyebrows. "I wanted to thank you for your help in finding our John Doe. That took quite a bit of skill and bravery. Plus, a patron told me how you had stopped a growing fight at Granny's between those two drunks," he continued, even after Emma started at the plural form of the word. "We could use someone like you in the law department."

"Well, if I remember correctly, this town already has a sheriff," Emma told him, and he gave her an exasperated look.

"I meant as a deputy. I think you could use some roots in this town. Especially since it looks like you intend to stay," he said, but stopped when he saw her expression.

"Graham… I already have a job."

"As a bail bondsman? Not a lot of that around here is there?" he retorted. She gave him a look. "Listen. You don't have to take the job. But… just think about the boy. This job could help you stay here with him. You don't have to decide now, but here's my card. Just in case." Graham pressed his lips together, not quite smiling as he turned away and got into the car. Emma stared at the card, her stomach feeling heavy. Maybe a trip to Granny's was a good idea right now.

* * *

"Perhaps you should consider what's best for Henry," the mayor was saying at the end of her speech, her face smug. She got up to leave. "Enjoy your coco."

Emma stuck out her tongue as she thought. The subject of Henry and her relationship with him was turning up more and more. She hoped this day would turn a little brighter. She quickly stood up to go back to the apartment, but ended up spilling the hot coco all over her front.

"Really?" she said in defeat, holding her arms out as if not knowing what to do. Ruby came up, looking sympathetic.

"Eesh," Ruby commented while handing over a small napkin.

"Do you have a laundry room I can use?" Emma asked, dabbing at the stain with no prevail. Ruby nodded with a smile.

Annoyed with the day's events so far, Emma hurried to where Ruby pointed and found the room full of washers and dryers. Not paying attention to anything else, Emma opened the nearest washer and peeled off the sticky shirts and threw them in, then poured detergent in directly from the bottle. She stood there in her black bra and jeans, trying to find the start when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Emma whirled around and felt her stomach drop. Mr. Jones stood there, looking surprised with a pair of trousers in hand, obviously just starting his laundry as well. His eyes flickered briefly to her chest before he turned his head awkwardly away, as if to give her privacy. Emma felt her face burning and she quickly looked around for something to cover herself with. A blue button down shirt hung from the line overhead and she grabbed it and put it on. It was much too big for her, but at the moment she didn't care.

"What are you doing here," Emma accused, trying to take his mind, and hers, off of what just happened. She wasn't really asking, because it was obvious why he was there, but she still felt the need to say something. He cleared his throat again and finally looked back at her, his eyes lighting up for some reason when he saw her wearing the blue shirt now.

"Well, love. You see. I just recently discovered that there was a contraption that could clean your clothes for you. I thought I might try it today. If I had known that this is what doing laundry was like," his eyes roamed her shirt up and down briefly, making her feel self-conscious again, "-then I would have tried it a lot sooner."

"Oh ha-ha. Very funny. I don't need the sarcasm," Emma said, her cheeks still pink.

"But apparently you do need my shirt," Killian said, and Emma looked down in horror. Oh God. Of course it had to be his shirt. Biting her lip she began to unbutton the bottom of it, searching for something else to wear, but he quickly stopped her. "Not that I don't appreciate it, love, but you can keep it. You do look quite dashing in it," he said, smirking at her. She couldn't help but give him a small smile back. She barely noticed the blonde girl walk in and frantically open one of the dryers.

"Thanks," she said. She buttoned the shirt again and then looked at him, not knowing what else to say. Apparently he didn't either, so they stood in an awkward silence for a few moments. The blonde, obviously pregnant, girl grumbled in the background, gathering clothes from the dryer and folding them into a basket. Killian cleared his throat again and dropped the pair of pants into the basket at his feet. Still unsure, he reached up to scratch behind his ear; Emma wondered if it was a nervous tick of his.

"So. We meet again," he drawled. She blinked a few times, still feeling a slight burn in her cheeks, before clearing her throat and answering.

"Um, yeah. We've got to stop...bumping into each other like this." Emma winced at the unintended joke, and he smiled devilishly at her.

"Oh trust me, love. I have no problem if we continue this pattern of meeting. Especially if it's like this," he said, and looked meaningfully at his shirt on her. She rolled her eyes. Wonderful. She crossed her arms over her chest and his grin widened.

"Yeah. Don't get your hopes up. That was a one time thing," she said, trying to blow off the embarrassing moment. He barked a laugh, as if what she had said was completely ridiculous. _Jerk._ He mimicked her and crossed his arms.

"We'll see." Her heart stopped for a moment when he said that, but then she relaxed as she saw the glint in his eye. He was only joking. Hopefully. Trying to hide any traces of the blush she felt developing again, Emma turned back to the washing machine, finally starting it. When she turned back around, he was observing her with a softer expression.

"I trust you have found a place to stay, then?" he asked, and she remembered that the last time they had seen each other, she was being kicked out of Granny's. She nodded.

"Yeah, a uh, friend of mine offered me a spare room at her apartment. You know Mary Margaret Blanchard?" she said. Killian nodded.

"Aye. The school teacher. I've never met her, but her kindness is well known. I'm glad you were able to find something...I guess this means you'll be staying longer than a week?" he asked, scratching behind his ear again and quirking an eyebrow. Emma sighed. Everyone seemed so surprised. Even she was surprised.

"Yeah. I guess so." He smiled at her then, and she again felt compelled to smile back.

"Well, maybe we'll be seeing more of each other, love."

"Maybe we will," she said slowly, giving him an almost challenging look.

Killian continued to smile at her, one eyebrow raised. Then he gathered his clothes and set them in a basket at his feet. Picking it up, he walked over to her.

"As much as I love our chats, I'm afraid I must be going now. I hope to see you soon, Swan," he said, and his eyes bored into hers. Their color was just as intense as before, if not more so with the afternoon light streaming through the window. Emma blinked and he backed away. Right as he was walking out the door she stuttered, "It's Emma." He paused and looked back at her, and gave her another grin.

"Well. I'll see you soon. _Emma_ ," he said smoothly, then was gone. Emma blinked again, and quickly returned to Earth when she heard a cry come from behind her. The pregnant girl was holding ruined sheets in her hand.

"They're _pink_ ," she said in despair. Oh boy. Now she had to comfort an emotional pregnant girl. This day was just getting better and better.

* * *

 **A/N: Psst. Hey you. Yeah, you. Don't forget to check out the very talented _lovescaptainswan_ on Tumblr and _captemmajones_ on Instagram. She is the lovely person who gave me this story idea.**


	3. Tying the Knot

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters (even though that would be awesome). The writers of OUAT are just as much a part of this story as I am.**

 **Thank you for reading! I still get excited about people following and favoriting. Also, I still _really_ love reviews.**

* * *

"So what do you plan on doing today?" Mary Margaret asked, filling two plates with sausage and toast. Emma sat on the floor surrounded by a few boxes, sifting through each one.

"Not sure. Right now I'm just happy I finally got my stuff," Emma said, holding up a sweater and sighing contently. "Which means I can finally stop wearing this." She still had on Killian's blue shirt from yesterday. Her heart lurched when she realized she would have to return it to him. Mary Margaret brought over her plate and Emma gave her a quick thanks before returning to the boxes.

"Are these all or are there more on the way?" Mary asked, observing the small amount.

"This is it. I'm not, um, sentimental." Emma looked up at her friend to see what she thought. Mary Margaret's face had turned a little sad, but she smiled.

"No I get it. It helps with moving," Mary said as she tried to sit at the table, but was interrupted by a knocking at the door. She and Emma looked at each other before she went to answer. "Henry? What are you doing here?" Emma looked up quickly. Henry strode in with his backpack over his shoulders.

"Hey, kid. You realize it's Saturday, right? No school," Emma said as she stood up.

"I know. I just thought we could hang out today," he said, helping himself to some of her sausage. She smiled at him without thinking. Mary Margaret observed the two, a small smile of her own playing on the corner of her lips.

"Well," Emma began, clapping her hands against her sides, "I guess we could do something. What do you have in mind? Do anything fun around here-wait. Does your mom know you're here?" Emma asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nope. I have to be home by five. That's when the town council meeting ends. So we better get going," Henry said. He sat down in one of the dining chairs, looking at her expectantly. "Is that what you're going to wear or…" he began. Emma rolled her eyes and looked through her boxes for some fresh jeans and a blouse.

"Let me go get changed." She went into the bathroom and took off her old clothes, folding the blue shirt neatly and setting it on the counter. She then took a quick shower and fixed her hair and makeup before getting dressed and meeting Henry at the front door.

"I don't think it's ever taken me that long to change clothes," Henry complained and Emma squeezed his shoulder.

"Where to, kid?" she asked. He thought for a moment.

"How about the beach? Or the docks? I never go down there, so the queen wouldn't think to check there," he suggested. Emma smiled down at him.

"Alright. Lead the way." Henry opened the door and began walking down the stairs. Emma looked back at Mary Margaret and waved goodbye. She gave a half smile and waved back before Emma closed the door.

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The sun seemed to finally want to appear from behind the usual dreary clouds, and the temperature had risen enough to make Emma consider taking off her leather jacket. The boats floated lazily in the harbor, waves lapping gently against them. A slight breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean and what must have been a nearby restaurant to the two as they walked. Emma was glad that the conversation that flowed between her and Henry came easily, as if they had known each other for years rather than a couple of weeks.

They walked down the docks, looking at each boat and commenting on the names of each ship.

"Oh look at that one! _Seas the day_ ," Henry pointed out, laughing.

"Nice, nice. But what about that one." Emma pointed at a boat with _Keep'n it Reel_ painted in large letters on the side. They both laughed until Henry gasped. Emma quickly looked to see where he was staring.

" _The Jolly Roger_?" Emma said confused.

"Aye. She be mine," a voice from behind them said. They both turned to see Killian walking down the dock towards them. He walked up to Emma and tilted his head, smiling coyly at her. "I told you we would see each other soon, Swan." Henry looked between the two, as if trying to figure out how they could know each other.

"You named your boat the _Jolly Roger_? Why? It doesn't look anything like the pirate ship," Emma said, looking back at the large white sailboat. It was one of the biggest ones she had seen that day, looking as though it took multiple people to keep it afloat.

"She's had that name for as long as I remember. I guess it just suits her," Killian said, looking at the boat with fondness. She rolled her eyes as he continued to assign a gender to it. "May I ask what brings you to the harbor today? What makes you travel with the mayor's son?" he asked, turning back to her and Henry.

"This is my mom. My real mom. We just decided to go for a walk," Henry answered. Killian raised his eyebrows and looked at Emma in surprise. She just pressed her lips together, not sure about his reaction. He recovered quickly.

"Ah! And of course you came here. There's nothing like the fresh ocean air to fill the lungs and clear the mind," Killian said, flourishing his arms.

"I suppose that's why you're here too," Emma commented.

"Aye. That, and I work and live here." Killian tilted his head at her again. She noticed for the first time his attire. He had on a tan, well-worn sweater and dark jeans. She tried not to notice how they hugged his lean leg muscles in all of the right places. He also wore distressed work boots, an apron, and work gloves. Now that she thought of it, Emma didn't remember ever seeing him without the gloves on. At least on the left hand.

"You live on a boat?" Henry asked, his eyes lighting up. Killian smiled and nodded at the boy.

"Kind of a cramped living space isn't it?" Emma asked, eyeing the boat again. It was big, but it didn't look large enough to hold an entire living area.

"I prefer to think of it as…cozy," he said with a roll of his eyes. "But to be close to the water every night… A limited amount of living space is a small price to pay for such luxury. I manage the docks and harbor during the day, and get to return to my home on the waves at night." Emma couldn't help but admire the way he spoke of the ocean, and how his face lit up at the subject. She realized she was staring again and quickly looked away before he noticed.

"So you know how to sail a ship?" Henry asked, as curious as ever.

"Of course, lad," Killian answered, then thought for a moment. He leaned down to look Henry in the eyes. "Would you like to learn?" Henry's entire face lit up with excitement.

"Boating lessons from _the_ Captain Hook?! Yes!" he said, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be keeping the curse a secret. Killian looked up at Emma puzzled. She smiled and shrugged.

"How would you like to get started? Assuming it's okay with your mother?" he added, looking up at Emma. She checked her watch. 10:45. They had plenty of time.

"Sure. We hadn't really planned anything else today. Maybe get something to eat later," she said. Henry beamed at her and started to run towards the "Jolly Roger". Killian stopped him before he got too far.

"Eh, eh. Where do you think you're going boy?" he asked, laughing.

"I'm going to sail the ship. Like you said," Henry said confused. Killian chuckled.

"You have a lot more to learn about sailing before you are ready to actually get on a boat, lad," he said, still chuckling. "We have to start from the beginning. Learn what every good captain needs to know. Such as…" Killian looked around for a moment, then motioned them to follow him. They walked to the end of a pier, where frayed ropes lay in a pile. He gathered some of the shorter ones and held them out for each of them to take one.

"Every sailor needs to learn how to tie a rope properly," he said with a grin. Henry frowned and gave him a disbelieving look.

"Tying a knot? But-" Henry began to protest, but Killian stopped him.

"A proper knot could make the difference between smooth sailing and abandoning ship. Everyone has to start somewhere." He looked up at Emma. "And hopefully, that first deed will be the beginning to something great." He gazed into her eyes again, and she had to look away. The water was as blue as his eyes. She fiddled with the rope in her hands and he began their first lesson.

And that's how they spent two hours trying to tie those stupid ropes the exact way he wanted them. He showed them the different ways to tie it to a post, and then showed them a few "simple" knots used regularly. Henry seemed to enjoy himself. Emma, however, would have preferred an activity that didn't cause her to acquire rope burn on her palms.

"You're doing great, lad! Well done!" Killian praised Henry. Henry beamed up at Jones, no doubt thinking how cool it was to have Captain Hook compliment him. Emma was sure almost every boy wanted to be a pirate at some point in their lives. Killian walked over to her and observed her rope.

"You, however, could use some work," he teased her. She shot him a look and continued working.

"I'm doing just fine, thank you," she told him. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her poor excuse for a knot again.

"Please. I could tie a knot one-handed better than you are right now," he said. Emma stopped what she was doing and rolled her eyes up to the sky, then pushed the rope into his chest.

"Oh really? Fine. Why don't you try then?" she retorted. He gave her an amused look and started working on the rope one-handed, finally using his teeth to tighten the knot in the end. It was perfect.

"See?" he offered the rope back to her smugly. She pursed her lips and snatched it from him.

"You didn't say anything about using your mouth," she accused. His eyes turned darker and his lips quirked. He leaned in until their faces were only inches apart and only she could hear him.

"I was hoping that would be implied," he told her suggestively. His tongue ran over his bottom lip and his gaze flickered to her mouth. He finally stepped away after a moment and Emma allowed herself to breathe again.

"Do you have to do that?" she complained.

"Do what?" he asked innocently, eyebrows furrowed in mock concern.

"Turn every conversation into some…lame attempt at flirting," she said, rolling her eyes at his expression. His smile faded a bit, but then he smirked at her.

"What? Afraid my advances will lead to more…amorous activities?" She just gave him a look. Before she could retaliate, her phone began to ring in her jacket pocket. Emma gave him one last warning look and flipped her phone open. It was Mary Margaret. She hit accept.

"Hello?"

"Emma? Thank goodness you answered! You'll never believe who just visited the apartment looking for you," Mary said frantically. Emma frowned.

"Who?"

"Mr. Gold."

"Mr. Gold? What did he want?" Emma asked. Killian's head snapped up and Emma pressed her finger to her lips. He paid close attention to the rest of her conversation.

"He was asking about Ashley Boyd." Mary Margaret sounded worried.

"Who?" Emma asked again.

"She's a girl in town; works as a maid. She's nine months pregnant." Emma finally realized. The girl from the laundry room. The one she had given the advice to.

"What did he want with her?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, he didn't go into detail… But he said that she had stolen something from him, and now he can't find her. He didn't want to involve the police, so he came to ask you to help find her," Mary Margaret finished. It sounded as though she was about to cry. Emma didn't know what to say. She had told the girl that she was the only one who could control her life, but she didn't think she would go this far.

"Emma? Are you still there?"

"I'm still here."

"I'm really worried about her. She could be due any time now. She doesn't need to be on her own." Emma thought for a moment, then decided.

"I'll try my best to find her." Mary Margaret thanked her and hung up. Emma turned back to find the two boys staring at her.

"What was that about? Did something happen?" Henry asked.

"Why were you talking about Mr. Gold?" Killian asked, suspicious.

"Ashley Boyd has gone missing. He wants me to find her," she told them both. Henry still looked confused, but Killian immediately seemed to comprehend.

"Ah. I see," he said, not sounding happy.

"What do you mean, 'I see'?" she said.

"Well, her situation isn't exactly a secret," he said, scratching the back of his head.

"Situation?" Emma looked at him again and he sighed.

"Her deal with Mr. Gold. To give up the baby in exchange for large sum of money." Emma looked at him in horror. She had sold her baby? But yesterday, she really seemed to want to keep it. Killian noticed her distaste.

"I don't agree with it either. I can't believe anyone would want to do that. But I can believe that he would want be the one to force her to give the child up. I've never liked that man," he finished with a disgusted look.

"Emma. We have to go find her and keep her away from Mr. Gold," Henry said, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Oh no. You are not coming with me. Your mom would kill me if I involved you in this. Then kill you. Then kill me again," she said with a grimace. The kid was already setting down the rope and pulling on his backpack. He looked up at her with wide brown eyes that Emma was finding harder and harder to refuse.

"We don't have time to argue. She might be in danger," Henry insisted. Killian nodded.

"Aye. I agree with the boy," he said, and she gave him an annoyed look. She looked back and forth between the two, then sighed in defeat.

"Come on Henry. Let's try to do this before your mom notices you're missing."


	4. Reunited

**Oops sorry. I meant to have this as part of the last chapter. It is considerably shorter than the others.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and the writers are just as much a part of this story as I am.**

Emma was finding it hard to keep a cool expression as she watched the new mother cradling her baby. Her eyes had begun to burn and she blinked rapidly to keep any treacherous tears at bay. After so many years, she was still not over her decision to give up her own baby. The sour memories were dredging up more and more now that Henry had found her, and though Emma knew she had made the right choice-that she hadn't been ready at the time- she couldn't help but feel guilty. Henry stood next to her, leaning into her side. She placed her hand on his shoulder, keeping him close. She may not have been able to hold him back then, but she could now.

"What's her name?" Emma asked. The blonde girl looked as though she had just gone through war, but you wouldn't have thought so from her expression. Her face was a mask of love and adoration as she cooed at the pink bundle in her arms. Ashley looked up briefly with a smile then back to the baby.

"Alexandria," she said proudly. Emma smiled. Pretty. There was just one last thing to take care of. She spun around, Henry still in the crook of her arm, and headed back towards the lobby. Mr. Gold waited for them there, a cup of cheap hospital coffee in his hand. He grinned when he saw the two of them. Emma murmured for Henry to go sit down before confronting the man. He spoke before she could.

"Ms. Swan. I was hoping Ms. Blanchard had passed along my message. I'm so glad you were able to find the poor girl," Mr. Gold almost purred. "She must have been so confused. Running away, taking my property-"

"You mean the baby," Emma interrupted. Her lips were pursed and she felt her nostrils flare, something that only happened when she was really pissed. The crippled man had the audacity to chuckle and begin to limp away. She followed him.

"Ah. I see you have been talking with the locals. Yes, I mean the baby. Tell me. How is the precious one? Healthy I hope," he continued as he paid for another coffee.

"I'm not going to let you take that baby away from her," Emma said through clenched teeth. Mr. Gold tilted his head with a smirk and looked back at her.

"And _I'm_ afraid that's not really up to you Ms. Swan. You see, me and Ashley have a deal."

"You mean the contract she tried to steal from you last night?" Emma looked at the wound on his forehead and hoped that it hurt. The old man just shrugged.

"Listen. I'm just looking at what is best for the poor mother. I came looking for you so that I wouldn't have to involve the police. But make no mistake, I will call them if you continue to interfere. Wouldn't want that baby to end up in the system, now would we. Tell me, Ms. Swan. Did you enjoy your time in the system?" He smiled as she clenched her jaw in response. "I didn't think so."

"I think you and I both know that that contract wouldn't hold up in court. They wouldn't try to force her to give up the baby, not if she really wants to keep her. Also, what would it say about you? Trying to get away with something like this? Bad for business I expect. Are you really wanting to start that fight?" Emma stared him down, daring him to contradict her. His smirk was gone and was replaced with a cold calculating look, as if he were trying to figure her out. Then it was like someone flipped a switch and he was suddenly smiling again.

"I like you Ms. Swan," he began. She furrowed her eyebrows. "You're not afraid of me and that's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way I would rather you on my side."

"So she can keep the baby," she said as more of statement than a question.

"Not just yet," he said, limping away. "There's still the matter of my… _agreement_ ….with Ms. Boyd."

"Tear it up," she suggested, knowing he would reject the idea.

"That's not what I do." He raised his arms, brandishing his cane and cup of coffee. "You see contracts, deals—well they're the very foundation of all civilized existence, so I put it to you now." He pointed in the direction of Ashley's room and then gave her a serious expression. "If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?" Emma gave him a cold look.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Oh I don't know just yet. You'll owe me a favor." They both stared each other down. Emma leaned forward, trying to put as much venom into her voice as possible.

"Deal." He smiled and walked away. Emma allowed her shoulders to relax a little as she sighed and turned back to Henry, only to find that he was not alone.

Killian stood there with a worried expression, glancing between her and the disappearing back of Mr. Gold. He held a small bear in his hand with a bright red bow wrapped around its neck. He stepped forward just as Emma did and they were suddenly very close to one another.

"God, can't I go one second without you showing up for some reason. What are you even doing here?" she asked, not exactly annoyed at him, but still riled up from her previous conversation. He bit his bottom lip and looked at her with concern written all over his face.

"When you left, I began to think more and more of the Ashley girl's problem. You seemed so upset by the endeavor…I thought I might try to help." A sandy haired boy walked through the glass doors on the other side of the room. He held a pair of tiny slippers in his hand. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Emma watched as he made his way to the front desk and she faintly heard him say, "I'm looking for Ashley Boyd?" The nurse directed him to the room and he vanished down the hallway.

"What did you do?" she asked, confused as to why he would help her.

"I went to the father's house. It turns out that the boy's own father had made him stick with the deal Mr. Gold had offered. I merely convinced the lad to follow his heart," Killian answered, somewhat shyly looking down at her, looking for her reaction.

She couldn't believe it. This man, a stranger she had just met two days ago, had gone out of his way to help not only her, but reunite a family. Emma looked at him more closely. His lips were parted slightly as he waited for her to say something. His blue eyes were very warm at the moment, but also very wary.

"You reunited her family?" she asked, not knowing what else to say. He nodded slowly.

"Aye." Without thinking, Emma reached out and hugged him. It was extremely out of character for her, and she knew Henry was watching, but at the moment she didn't care. She felt his arms slowly wrap around, as if unsure of what to do at first. He was very warm, and smelled of oak, rum, and the ocean. She enjoyed his arms around her a little too much, so she quickly pulled away once she gained control of her emotions again.

"Thank you," she said, not looking him in the eye. Then she noticed the time.

"Oh man, it's nearly five. Henry we have to get you home." She reached for the boy, who had been very interested in her interaction with Mr. Jones. Emma looked up at Killian one last time, not quite making eye contact. "We have to go."

"Of course. And I suppose I should go give this to Sean and his family," he said, holding up the bear with a hesitant smile. She returned it briefly before heading out the door, son in tow.


	5. House Party

**Hello again! Thank you to those who have followed and favorited this story! It means so much to me and I get so excited when an email informs me of such. I couldn't think of a clever title for this chapter, so I just named it after Sam Hunt's song _House Party_. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the yada yada. Writers of OUAT are just as much a part of this fic as I am.**

* * *

Emma sat and observed her friend. Mary Margaret did not look well. Like something was missing from her. She couldn't help but think this had something to do with David, previously known as John Doe.

"Listen, I know it's hard, but you know this is the right thing to do," Emma told her and Mary Margaret cringed. She looked at her in surprise.

"I don't know what-" she began but Emma cut her off.

"You're thinking about David Nolan. I can see it in your face. You get all moony-eyed and sad at the same time," Emma finished awkwardly. She never was one for comforting. Mary Margaret looked up, her eyes bloodshot and sunken.

"I thought resigning from the hospital would help, but I still think about him. About how he feels…" she trailed off, her eyes unfocused. Emma reached over the table and held her hand.

"What he said doesn't change the fact that he's a married man. You don't want to get involved with that. Trust me." Mary Margaret focused on Emma now. She furrowed her eyebrows and opened her mouth as if to spout off another excuse to see the man, but then thought better of it.

"I don't have to go to that party if you don't want me to. We can just stay in tonight," Emma continued. "I can make us some cinnamon coco?" Mary Margaret allowed the side of her mouth to quirk up but stayed in her depressive state.

"No. No, you're deputy now. You helped rescue him, and a lot of people from the town invited you there after how you handled that mine situation. You should go. Plus," she added as a knock sounded at the door, "Henry has been wanting to go tonight too."

Emma walked over to answer the door, looking over her shoulder with a concerned face. Henry stood ready.

"Hey kid. Come on in." Henry walked in, eyes going straight to Mary Margaret and her dejected position at the table.

"Ms. Blanchard…are you okay?" he asked, worried. She tried to hide her face behind the flower centerpiece and put on a forced smile.

"Of course Henry. Just a little blue today," she tried to reassure him. Henry looked up at Emma and she shook her head.

"Well…I'm sure the party will take your mind off of whatever's bothering you. We'll have fun!" he enthused. Mary Margaret's breathing hitched and she had to look down again. Emma quickly stepped forward and took Henry by the shoulders, leading him to the door.

"Um, kid. I think Mary Margaret wants to be alone right now. She doesn't need to go to that party," she told him, and was about to step through the threshold when he put on his brakes. He made her bend down so he could whisper to her.

"But we need to help her and Prince Charming get together. Operation Cobra, remember?" He looked up at her with an earnest expression and she gave a sigh.

"Not tonight Henry." They headed downstairs and Emma helped him into the yellow bug.

The ride over to the Nolan's house was quiet; Henry sat in the passenger seat in deep thought. Emma was just glad to leave some of the gloominess behind her. The house was easy enough to find; it was an old white house with a decrepit sign in the front that read "The Nolans" in chipped, blue letters. A banner over the front door welcomed David home. Henry ran up the steps and rang the doorbell before Emma could even get out of the car. Dr. Whale answered the door with a smile, beckoning them in. Katherine and David hadn't arrived yet.

The inside of the house was a lot nicer than the outside; a lot homier. There was quite the crowd gathered in the house, and Emma couldn't help but wonder where all these "friends" were when David was supposedly missing and lying comatose in a hospital bed. She could hear Regina's voice coming from the kitchen, ordering people around and telling them where to set plates and food. Of course Regina was here. She had been pushing David and Katherine together ever since he had woken up. Emma was about to find a place to sit with Henry when someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around and there stood Killian Jones. He had exchanged his work clothes with a button up shirt, a black leather jacket, and black boots. Much to her unwanted pleasure, he still had on the dark, hugging jeans. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this man just loved to make unexpected visits in her life lately.

"Mr. Jones. I didn't know you were friends with the Nolan's," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. He matched her tone, mocking her again.

"Alas, I'm not. Henry invited me." Emma quickly looked down at him and he smiled sheepishly.

"I see. He didn't tell me that." She gave the boy a bemused look, then returned to Killian. "I'm sure Katherine will appreciate anyone from the town showing up and supporting her family." Killian nodded his head slightly, trying to catch her eye, but Emma couldn't quite do so yet. She had hoped to avoid the man for a while after their last interaction with each other. That hug had definitely overstepped whatever relationship they had; she wasn't even sure if she considered him a friend yet. All three stood in an awkward silence, not knowing what to say next. Killian cleared his throat to break the developing tension.

"How about I go get us some refreshments?" he suggested, and walked away before either her or Henry could answer. Emma immediately turned on her son.

"Kid? What were you thinking? You can't just invite people to a party that isn't yours. This was meant to celebrate David's coming home," she scolded him quietly.

"I think Mr. Jones can help us with Operation Cobra. His cursed counterpart is the closest to his real self than I've seen in any of the other characters. I think if we tried, we could get him to remember he's Captain Hook! We just have to find a way to jog his real memories," Henry explained quickly, looking around to make sure his other mom wasn't listening anywhere. Before Emma could say anything else, the front door opened and David and Katherine walked in. There was a round of applause for the returning man, and Katherine guided him into the other room, introducing everyone. Killian returned with a cup in one hand, and two others balancing in the crook of his arm. Emma hurriedly grabbed them before they spilled, wondering why he didn't use his other hand to hold the drink. He looked over at David.

"That man looks familiar," he said, trying to get a better look as the crowd closed in.

"He should. It's his party," Emma said. She took a sip of her drink and nearly choked. "What the hell is that?" Henry's cup paused halfway to his mouth and he looked at it worriedly. Killian sniffed her drink and switched it out with his.

"Ah. Sorry, love. That be mine," he said, not at all embarrassed. Alcohol didn't bother Emma, in fact she wouldn't mind having a drink of her own, but her mind couldn't help but wander back to what Graham said. How he pluralized the word "drunk" when talking about Killian and Leroy. Just then David walked up.

"Hey. You're the ones who saved me, right?" he said with a smile. Emma opened her mouth in surprise for a second, then answered.

"Oh. Yeah, I- I guess," she said, slightly embarrassed. Killian raised his eyebrows at her.

"And, uh, you're also the only ones I know here," he admitted, a sad look clouding his face as he looked around the room. Then he noticed Killian.

"I, um, hello. It's been a while…" he began and Killian quickly sat down his drink to shake David's hand.

"Hello. I'm Killian Jones. We don't know each other," he said with a grin, and David's face turned relieved.

"Thank God," David said as they shook hands, "I don't think I could stand meeting one more person I supposedly know already." Both men chuckled as a server walked up with a plate of appetizers. David muttered a thank you as he took a toothpick and jabbed a carrot from the plate. Henry looked at him, thinking.

"So…you ever use a sword?" Henry inquired. David laughed.

"I'm sorry?" he smiled at the boy, and Emma laughed with him. Henry turned to Killian.

"What about you, Mr. Jones. You know how to use a sword, right?" Killian grinned at the boy.

"Aye. A long time ago when I was just a lad, my brother and I used to take fencing lessons. But it's been too long for me to remember correctly though," he finished quickly, seeing Henry's face light up.

"Oh. Well maybe you just need to try again. Muscle Memory," Henry suggested. Emma gave him a quizzical look. David suddenly looked her in the eye, pointing at her with the carrot. She stilled.

"Emma, you live with Mary Margaret, right?" David asked. Emma nodded. "Do you know if she's coming tonight?" Emma wrinkled her nose and gave him an apologetic look.

"No, she couldn't make it." David tried to hide his disappointment, but it was apparent to the other three.

"Well, if you don't mind, I should get back to the rest of the party," he said, looking a little less cheerful. "I'll see you around hopefully. It was nice to meet you Killian." He walked away with his shoulders slightly hunched.

"Well that turned sour rather fast," Killian commented. Henry nodded in agreement. Emma noticed Dr. Whale beckoning them over. She walked over to him and he smiled at her, a little too friendly. A woman sitting on the couch near them recognized Henry and waved at him. Henry smiled politely back and walked over to her, Emma giving his shoulder a light squeeze before he was out of reach. She turned back to the doctor, his blond hair slicked back and a smirk on his lips.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Ms. Swan," he said. His eyes roamed up and down her body, making her feel uncomfortable. Geez, what a sleazeball. "I am one hell of a doctor aren't I? He wouldn't dare wake up on anyone else's watch." Emma made sure that Henry was out of earshot and still talking to the woman and not paying attention to the man's advances.

"Perhaps we could discuss this achievement, over…dinner?" he asked, not trying to be discreet. Emma felt Killian tense up beside her, and she looked up to see his jaw clenching. His right hand was balling into a fist. She lay her hand on his arm and he relaxed slightly, but still looked at the doctor in distaste.

"Thank you, but I should really be going soon. I'm sure Henry's mom doesn't want him to stay out too-" Emma began just as Katherine walked over to them.

"Have you seen David? I can't find him," she fretted. They all shook their head. Katherine began to walk away with a worried expression, just as Henry appeared with a triumphant look.

"He's gone to find Mary Margaret."

* * *

 **Psst. Hey you. Yeah, you. The one reading this. You see that little white box below? It would be wonderful if you maybe wrote a review there :)**


	6. Night Shift

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. The writers are as much a part of this story as I am. Thanks for reading!**

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Graham opened a box of donuts with an eyebrow raised. Emma looked at him suspiciously and he sighed.

"Sometimes the clichés are true," he told her, offering the box.

"Alright. What do you want?" she cut to the chase. He sighed again.

"Remember when I said no night shifts? I need you to work tonight. Just this once," he apologized. Emma gave him a reluctant look, whining a bit.

"I volunteer at an animal shelter, and the supervisor is sick, and someone needs to feed the dogs." He inched the donuts a little closer to her. She pouted and looked up at him, then reached into the box.

"Very lucky you brought a bear claw," she said. He smiled at her just as Mary Margaret hurried in. Graham said something about patrolling his office and walked away to give them privacy. Mary Margaret took a deep breath.

"He left his wife," she sighed. "David—he left her. He left Katheryn." Emma looked at her in surprise.

"Whoa, hey. Slow down," Emma said, but Mary continued.

"He—he did it for me. He wants me to be with him. He wants me to meet him tonight." Emma tried to get in another word, but Mary Margaret was too excited. "I mean, I'm trying so hard to be strong, but he just keeps coming. I mean, how do I stop it? You know, how do I let him down? What would you do?" Mary Margaret paced back and forth and Emma turned with her in her chair.

"I'd go," Emma finally said. Mary Margaret wasn't expecting that and gave her a questioning look. "Well, he left her. It's one thing to say that he wants you, but it's another to actually make a choice, and now he has. That's all you can ask for."

Mary Margaret smiled, and then a look of relieved disbelief overcame her.

"Good lord. Is this really happening?" she asked. Emma shrugged, taking a bite of her bear claw. Mary Margaret hesitated then dragged a chair over to sit next to her. Emma raised an eyebrow as the teacher smiled shyly.

"Don't you have a date to get ready for?" Emma asked, not sure what that expression was for.

"I don't want to talk about me anymore. It's selfish," Mary Margaret hinted. Seeing that this conversation was about to move to herself, Emma tried to redirect.

"You are the least selfish human being I have ever met. Focusing on what you want now isn't a bad thing," she said. Mary still looked thoughtful.

"Just—please. I need someone to relate to. Are you…currently…interested in someone?" Mary Margaret asked. She looked at Emma expectantly. For a moment, all Emma could think about was the color blue. She shook her head, simultaneously clearing it and answering Mary Margaret's question.

"Come on. No one? Not even…" Mary looked behind her then leaned in closer to whisper. "Graham?" Emma jumped in surprise at the assumption, choking on the donut.

"Graham? No, it's definitely not Graham." Her friend smiled triumphantly.

"So there _is_ someone. Tell me. We're friends _and_ roommates now. You legally have to tell me now," she joked, sounding like a giggling school girl. Emma rolled her eyes.

"I didn't mean _that_. I just meant…Graham is nice, and I can see the appeal—but I just don't like him like that," Emma finished lamely. Talking about feelings was not her strong suit. Mary Margaret was giving her a skeptical look. Emma sighed and laid her hand on top of her friend's. "No more talking about me. Tonight is your night. Go have fun; get your man."

The two women smiled at each other, and Mary Margaret left to get ready.

* * *

Night shift was as eventful as one would expect in a quiet town in Maine. Emma hoped that Mary Margaret's evening was more exciting than hers at least. She also hoped that one of the dogs bit Graham at the shelter. She had been driving around town for what seemed like an eternity, but when she looked at the clock on the dashboard, it was only twelve. She took a sip of her coffee and continued her slow trip around town. It wasn't like this was her first time doing something like this. She had done plenty of stakeouts before for particularly tough cases as a bail bondsperson. But at least she had had the anticipation of a chase back then to keep her going through the night. Now all she had was a bland cup of convenience store coffee and the thought of finally going home to keep her going. Her eyes began to droop and she decided to pull the car over for a moment; she was really regretting staying out so late the night before.

It wasn't until she had turned off the engine when Emma realized she had unintentionally arrived at the harbor. The moon cast a ghostly light over the swaying ships, and Emma thought for a moment that Storybrooke really did look like it belonged in a fairytale book. She cranked the window down to let some air into the car, then laid back and closed her eyes. The ocean breeze felt good against her skin and cleared her mind a little. A loud crash made her eyes snap open and look frantically around. Her whole body tensed when she saw a dark figure standing near the end of a dock. Who would be out this late?

Emma quietly opened the door and stepped out, grabbing handcuffs from the glove compartment. Trying her best to be stealthy, she crept along the dock. The figure still hadn't noticed her. She stepped even closer, and could now tell that it was a man. A man with dark hair and a long stride and sturdy poise… Emma tried to backtrack as soon as she realized her mistake, but knocked over a bucket. It echoed loudly in the night and Killian spun around. A look of surprise overtook his face.

"Emma?" he said. She grimaced and he walked toward her. The moon washed his face with pale light and shadow, accenting his features. "What are you doing here so late? Come to see me?" he added on with a sly grin. Emma winced and smiled apologetically.

"I um, was patrolling the streets for suspicious behavior. I forgot that you…live here," she said. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I'm afraid sleep alluded me tonight and I thought a nightly stroll would help ease my mind. However, when that failed, I thought I might relax on my deck and enjoy a nightcap." He held his hand up to show a leather-clad flask. When she didn't say anything else, Killian observed her more closely. Emma wondered if she looked as worn as she felt.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked. She pursed her lips, tempted.

"I can't. I'm technically working right now." Man she hated night shift. Killian raised his eyebrows and gave her a crooked grin.

"Come now, Swan. Don't make a man drink alone," he said, the mischievous look making his request even harder to resist. He tilted his head slightly and her resolve broke.

"Fine. Just for minute." His crooked grin grew into a full blown smile and he began to walk towards his ship. The sailboat swayed gently where it was docked, and if she squinted, Emma could kind of see a small pirate ship in the dark. She was so distracted by it, that she didn't see the broken crate until Killian's hand whipped out to stop her.

"Sorry, love. I bumped into that earlier and busted the damn thing. I'll have to take care of it in the morning. Careful where you step." Emma carefully stepped around the mess and went aboard the ship. The deck was smaller than it had looked from afar. In fact, there was barely room to walk as he guided her to a sitting area. Sitting down, she looked to her left and saw a door leading down to what must be the living area. Killian sat beside her, looking up at the sky as he did so.

"Tonight is one of the rare nights that you can actually see the stars," he said wistfully. Emma looked up with him. She could see why he was so fascinated by them; the stars shined brightly without a cloud to obscure them.

"Know any constellations?" she asked. All she really knew was the Big Dipper.

"Aye. My brother Liam showed me long ago," he told her, but didn't elaborate. There was more to that story. She didn't want to pry, so she quietly observed the sky with him. They took turns drinking from the flask, passing it back and forth until it was considerably lighter. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"He died long ago, but when I sit out here on the water, looking at the stars he taught me, it feels like he's still here." Emma looked at him, her eyes wide. This sounded extremely personal. She tried desperately to think of something comforting to say, but came up blank.

"I'm sorry…" she said awkwardly. He looked over at her, a peculiar expression on his face.

"No, I apologize. I didn't mean to burden you with that. It's just…you make me feel…" he thought for a moment, "…like I can let down my walls. If that makes sense." Emma watched him as he took a swig from the flask. It did make sense. She had walls of her own.

"Well, I can't say I can relate. I never really had a family to teach me anything like that. My parents left me on the side of a road, and the foster families just kept me around for the check. I pretty much raised myself," she confessed. Not sure about how she felt about letting that out in the open, she accepted the offered flask and took a long pull from it. She imagined the rum flowing through her body and relaxed a little.

She gave a tired smile as she handed him the flask back, but paused when he raised his arm. His sleeve was pushed up to the elbow; a heart was tattooed on the inside of his arm. _Milah._ Her heart sank. Who was Milah? Why did he have her name tattooed in such an obvious spot? He saw where she was looking and indiscreetly pushed the sleeve down. Her suspicion grew even more. She was about to press him for more information, but when she looked up, her eyes met his again. He looked so earnest at the moment, and for the first time, vulnerable. She didn't know what to say.

She bit her lip as she thought about what to do next, and his eyes flickered to her mouth. Killian slowly leaned forward, his eyes on hers. Even in the dim light, Emma could see the intense color of blue. She lowered her eyelids as he slowly inched forward; he was so close now, she could feel his warm breath on her lips. He paused, their faces just inches apart, and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. Without meaning to, she leaned into his touch. His shirt sleeve rode up as he lifted his arm, and she saw the heart again.

Emma felt herself tense. She pushed him back and he puffed out a little "oh" as she quickly stood up.

"I think I should go now," she said in a rush. She began to walk towards where they had entered. He grabbed her arm, and she swung around, her nostrils flaring. Killian immediately let go when he saw her expression, but held out his hand as if to stop her.

"Please. I'm sorry, love. I don't know what came over me. Stay, please." He swallowed hard and she considered him for a moment. He really looked upset. His dark hair flopped onto his forehead, covering his eyes slightly. His usual smug expression was nowhere to be found. Maybe she should…

No. She couldn't go through this. Not again.

She exited the ship, leaving him behind calling her name.

* * *

Emma drove to the opposite side of town, trying to distance herself from the man that wouldn't leave her mind. That hadn't left her mind since she first saw him on her walk with Henry. She hadn't felt this way since she had met Neal, and look where that had landed her. Locked away, scared and pregnant, with a broken heart and a lifetime of trust issues.

She drove up to the mayor's house, looking up at Henry's window. It was dark; he must be asleep. She let out a shuttering breath and was about to drive away when she saw someone climbing from another window on the other side of the house. Emma jumped out of the car and ran up to the house, night stick in hand. Just as the man was rounding the corner, she struck him with the stick and he fell with a grunt. She raised it again, but before she could do anything, Graham looked up at her. Her shoulders drooped and the night stick fell to her side.

"This—is volunteering?" she asked, disgusted.

"Plans changed. Regina needed me to-" he began, but Emma stopped him.

"Sleep with her?" Emma was getting really tired of the men in this town.

"No," he grunted, trying to get up. She looked between him and the house.

"Then why were you sneaking out the window?"

"Uh, because…" he began to stutter, then thought better of it. "She didn't want Henry to know," he sighed. She looked at him in disbelief.

"You did this with Henry in the house?" she asked. She wanted to slap the sheriff.

"He's sleeping he doesn't know."

"Oh my God. I wish I was Henry right now. This is disgusting." Emma began to turn away. Graham had a pained expression.

"I really do work at the animal shelter you know," he said, as if that would fix the situation. Emma just looked at him.

"You can finish my shift. I'm done working nights." She walked away from him, tired from everything that had happened that night. She just wanted to be alone.

* * *

 **Mwahaha! I'm mean. They were so close to kissing! But Emma still isn't ready... she might not be ready for a while...**

 **I love love love reviews! Thank you to all that have followed and favorited! I am absolutely blown away!**


	7. Death of a Bachelor

**Okay, a little note before the chapter, and then a big one after. I was kind of getting lost in the story line when I reread some of this fic, so I added sort of an anchor to what was happening in the actual show. So most of this chapter is a reminder of what happened in episode 1x7. So yeah. This chapter is _definitely_ not all mine, though there are still some original scenes and commentary. Cue the disclaimer...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of OUAT; Not all of this writing is mine. The writers of the show are just as much a part of this story as I am.**

* * *

Mary Margaret hadn't been home when Emma returned that night, but she could hear the shower running downstairs when she woke up. Not feeling like talking to anyone

yet, Emma threw on some clothes and headed out to take a walk. She was hoping to clear her head. No such luck. Her phone began to buzz and she took a quick glance at the caller I.D. _Graham._ She hit reject. If it was important, he would call again immediately, or message her. Nothing happened.

Emma absentmindedly walked the streets, letting her mind wander anywhere but her current issues. She looked up after a while from her thoughts and stopped in her tracks. Her feet had been leading her to the harbor again. Giving a frustrated shake of her head, Emma turned around and began to walk back the way she came.

When she arrived at the apartment a few minutes later, she was surprised to see Mary Margaret sitting at the table. She was staring off into space, twisting a ring on her finger frantically. Her expression was hard to pinpoint. She looked…guilty?

"Hey," Emma said. She sat down opposite of her friend. Mary Margaret jumped and focused her attention on Emma.

"Oh. Hi," Mary said, still sounding distant. Her hair was still wet and untidy from the shower, and she wore a baggy t-shirt and jeans instead of one of her usual colorful dresses. Something wasn't right.

"You weren't here when I got home last night. I guess things went…well with David?" Emma asked. It was the wrong thing to say. Mary Margaret immediately closed in on herself and bowed her head with a pained expression. "Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong?" Emma reached over and tried to touch the teacher's shoulder, but she pulled away.

"He remembered," Mary Margaret said. Emma looked at her, confused.

"What?"

"He remembers…everything," Mary Margaret said, her voice shaking. Emma's face lit up with understanding, then pity. "He remembers Katherine, and Ajax, and the windmill and…everything."

"And he chose her," Emma stated.

"He said that he was obligated to give his marriage a chance, despite his feelings for me," Mary said. She wiped her eyes. "I should have never gone."

"Screw that!" Emma said, startling her friend. Mary Margaret looked at her with wide eyes. "You took a chance. You took life into your own hands, saying "to hell with you" to whoever got in your way. David made a big mistake, but you. You did not. So I say screw any self-pitying you've no doubt been doing these past few hours, and screw him!" Emma said, conviction in her voice. She stared Mary Margaret down, looking at her with fierce pride and support. Mary Margaret sat stunned for a moment, then shot out of her seat to hug her. Emma gave a surprised "oh!" before returning the hug. She wasn't used to so much affection. They stayed that way for a while until Mary Margaret finally pulled away with a watery grin.

"You're right. I can get past this. I need to get past this. I have gotten…past this," she began to trail off, looking embarrassed for a moment. Emma raised an eyebrow, wondering if self-pity had led to something else the night before. Mary Margaret jumped up.

"It's a little late for breakfast, but I think French toast would be really good right now. What do you think?" Emma looked at her for moment, trying to decide if she was okay, then nodded her head. Her phone began to buzz again. _Graham_.

She hit ignore.

* * *

Granny's had become the epitome of Storybrooke life. It entertained to those who sought comfort and to those who simply wished to have a good time. Dealing with both of those feelings, Emma tried to get Mary Margaret to leave the apartment and come with her to the diner, but she had refused. When Emma had left, Mary Margaret had been talking on the phone to someone, thanking them for something from yesterday.

Instead of walking up the main street to enter the diner's front door, Emma decided to cut through a bit of the foliage surrounding the building and come in through the back. She walked around the hallway corner and stopped in her tracks. Graham was right in front of her, a dart ready in hand. Ruby stood behind him holding a tray of empty glasses.

"Emma! What can I get you?" she said happily. Emma gave a sullen glance towards Graham then began to walk to the main exit, already deciding to leave. She'd rather be home with a heartbroken Mary Margaret than deal with this crap.

"Nothing," she said. She was almost to the exit when a dart flew past her ear and landed in the wall, barely missing her. She spun around, and stared at the drunken man. They had everyone's attention now.

"What the hell! You could have hit me!" she exclaimed. Graham slowly stepped forward, his arms raised.

"I never miss," he said, ignoring the man offering him a twenty dollar bill. "Have you been avoiding me? Ever since last night when you saw me..." he trailed off.

"Leaving the mayor?" Emma finished for him. "And yes. That is a euphemism. I'm not avoiding you, Graham. I just have no interest in having this conversation. It's your life, and I really don't care." She gave him a pitying look and walked out the door, the bell jingling to punctuate her last statement. As she walked away, she heard him following her, and she quickened her pace.

"If you don't care, then why are you so upset?" he called after her. She sped up.

"I'm not upset!"

"If that were true, you'd be at the bar with me, having a drink with me and not running away." Graham ran in front of her, making her stop. A dog barked in the distance and she gave him a condescending look.

"It's none of my business. Really," she said, and began to walk away again. Which was true, so Emma had no idea why she was acting like this. She didn't care what or who Graham did in his spare time. She had been telling the truth to Mary Margaret when she said that she had no interest in him. Maybe she just felt betrayed that someone she had thought was her friend had been fraternizing with the enemy the whole time. Maybe he had just unfortunately caught her at the wrong time after her encounter with Killian. Either way, she really wanted this conversation to end.

"Can we please talk about this? I need you to understand," he pleaded, still following her. She stopped again as he took hold of her shoulder. She yanked away from him.

"Why?" He opened his mouth and shook his head, looking away from her.

"I don't know. Maybe so _I_ can understand?" He gave her a helpless look.

"You need analysis? Talk to Archie."

"I want to talk to you," he said. She had had enough.

"Well your bad judgment in your problem, not mine," she said, walking away again. He hurried to catch up.

"You don't know what it's like with her. I don't _feel_ anything! Can't you understand that?" he asked.

"A bad relationship? Yeah, I understand a bad relationship. I just don't want to talk about yours." She didn't want to talk about anyone's. She was tired of talking about failed relationships and heartbreak. It was just a painful reminder of her own life.

"I realize I should have told you about Regina and I before I offered you the job." They stopped in the middle of the street.

"Yeah, why the secrecy? We're all adults. You can do whatever you want." Emma looked up at him, trying to understand why he was acting so strange.

"Because…because I didn't want you to look at me the way you are now," he confessed. She swallowed hard. He didn't look good; like he was about to pass out at any moment.

"Why? Why do care about the way I look at you?" she asked. They were standing really close.

"Because…" Graham said, then stopped. He looked down at her for a moment before lunging forward and grabbing her face. His lips came down on hers roughly and her eyes opened in surprise. She quickly pushed him off of her, pissed.

"What the hell was that?" she yelled. He was looking around him frantically.

"Did you see that?" He looked scared as he continued to search the street. Emma looked at him in disbelief, still breathing heavily.

"How much have you been drinking?" she asked. "That was way over the line." What was with the men in this town and trying to kiss her? She just wanted to be left alone; she wasn't here for a love interest. She was here for Henry. Graham was looking at her with a hurt expression.

'I'm sorry. I- I just. I need to feel something," Graham said. He stepped forward again and she quickly backed away.

"Listen to me Graham. You are drunk and full of regret. I get it. But whatever it is you are looking to feel, I can tell you one thing. You're not getting it with me." She rushed off to the apartment, leaving him under the street lamp, looking even more lost than before.

* * *

The next morning, she rushed down stairs only to pause as she saw what was setting on the table. A beautiful bouquet of flowers lay there. Annoyed she walked over and grabbed them. No card. She wondered which man was apologizing to her, Graham or Killian. Whoever it was, if they thought a few pretty flowers would make her forgive them, they had another think coming. She walked over to the trash can. Mary Margaret gasped behind her, running up.

"Oh! Hey. What are you doing?" she asked. Emma threw the bouquet in the trash.

"If _he_ thinks flowers will work on me…" she began, not sure which man she was accusing. Mary Margaret made a pained expression.

"No…those were mine," she said with her shoulders drooping. Emma glanced back, surprised.

"Oh. From David?" she asked. She pulled on a cardigan and watched her friend closely. Mary didn't look back as she walked to the other side of the room.

"No…uh. Dr. Whale," Mary said. Emma ran her hand through her curls, her face still confused.

"Why would Dr. Whale…" she began but trailed off. Mary Margaret gave her a meaningful look. Emma raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"I know. It's a disaster," Mary Margaret said. She bent down to hide her face.

"No. That's amazing. You're getting over David." Mary Margaret wrinkled her nose when Emma said that, and raised a hand in defiance.

"Mm. First of all, there's nothing to get over. And second of all, it's just a one-night stand," Mary Margaret said, then looked at the flowers. "Maybe I shouldn't have called him.

"Oh my God. You called him?" Emma said. She thought back to yesterday when she had left the apartment and Mary Margaret was on the phone. Oh God. She had _thanked_ him. "That is definitely not a one-night stand."

"Well, okay, I'm still learning. I…I've never had one before. I feel guilty." Mary still looked a little embarrassed, so Emma tried to comfort her.

"Why? There's nothing wrong with what you did. Trust me. One-nighters are as far as I ever go." Ever since Neal, she hadn't let herself get too attached to anyone.

"Yeah but that's because your-" Mary Margaret stopped at Emma's expression.

"What? What do I do?" she asked defensively. Mary Margaret sighed.

"You're just protecting yourself. With that wall you put up."

"Just because I don't get emotional over men," Emma said. She tried not to look too hurt.

"You don't get emotional over men? The floral abuse says otherwise. Emma, I know something is going on. I can see it in your eyes. How they light up whenever you think of him. And then how you put yourself down afterwards," Mary gently pressed her. "If it's not Graham, then who? And why are you shutting yourself off to him?" She reached into the trashcan and grabbed the flowers, looking slightly ruffled now. Emma didn't answer her directly.

"There is…nothing wrong with being a little cautious," she said. Mary Margaret put the flowers in a vase and then gave her a disapproving look.

"No. It's okay to be a little cautious…However. Emma, those walls of yours may help protect you, but they might also keep out love." Mary Margaret began to walk away. Emma gave her a pained expression.

Exactly. She didn't want love. She didn't need it. All it brought was pain.

* * *

Emma did not regret punching the queen, though she was a little embarrassed about losing her cool in front of Graham. She sat on her desk back at the sheriff's station, and let him treat the wound above her eye. They sat in silence, mulling over the most recent events. Graham had finally broken it off with Regina. He had finally done something that would give him a chance at happiness. Emma tried not to let her compare herself to his situation.

"So…I'm, uh, sorry for going a little crazy today," Graham said. He reached behind him to grab another cotton ball and the hydrogen peroxide. Emma winced when he applied it to the cut.

"No. I get it. You were confused, feverish…and heartbroken," she said. He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling. Emma couldn't deny that she could see the appeal. Being with him could be easy; he would be easy on the eyes and the heart. Because she couldn't really see herself falling for this man. When she was around him, she didn't feel the warmth in her chest, or the heaviness in her stomach. She didn't get that feeling of wanting to run away and run to him at the same time.

They were very close at the moment, and Emma saw Graham glance down at her mouth for a second before returning his attention to the task at hand. She pursed her lips before pushing his hand away. He looked at her in confusion.

"Graham…I realize you're feeling a little…vulnerable right now. And that you want to find a way to feel something. But I already told you. You won't find it from me," she told him gently. He stared at her for a moment, his grey eyes clouding over. But then he gave her a small smile.

"It's the Jones man, isn't it?" he said, and she jumped. How the hell did he know about Killian? He noticed her surprise and continued.

"Regina has been keeping pretty close tabs on you. Sorry," he quickly said, seeing her expression. "I didn't put a stop to it at first. I tried to justify it…saying how she was just looking out for Henry. But I'll make sure she stops. You don't deserve that. You deserve a chance at happiness too." Emma smiled faintly. A lot of people had been telling her that lately. Without thinking much of it, Emma reached up and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. He reeled back with wide eyes, grabbing the desk behind him for support.

"Graham? What's wrong?" she asked, worried. He looked like he had just seen something terrifying, then awing. He stood up and stepped toward her, holding her face gently in his hands.

"I remember," he said. She gave him a confused smile as he beamed at her. "I remember," he repeated. He hugged her to him, and Emma was just about to hug him back when he tensed suddenly.

"Graham…?" she began to say, but then he collapsed. "Graham!" She fell to the ground next to him, cradling his head; she repeated his name over and over again, hoping for a response. Graham didn't move again. Emma held her hand under his nose, hoping to feel air. Nothing. She put her hand over his heart, checked his pulse, everything. Nothing.

The sheriff was dead.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, so good news and bad news. This chapter and the next chapter are a bit longer than the others because I couldn't find a good enough place to break. The bad news is that the next chapter is the last of what I've already written, so we've caught up to where I currently am in the story. This means that updates will be farther apart now, and quite a few things have happened in my personal life lately that won't allow me to write as often as I want. I hope that you can stick with me through this.**

 **I really am still blown away by how many people have followed and liked this story. Thank you to all who have reviewed; as you may know by now, I love love love reviews. Stay awesome my friends. Well, maybe not friends. Acquaintances? Nah, you're reading this on chapter 7. We're buds now. Thanks for reading!**

 **Also, did you recognize the title of this chapter? I'm kind of in love with Panic! at the Disco's newest album. I was singing _Death of Bachelor_ the entire time I wrote this haha **


	8. The Storm

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to the creators and writers of OUAT; I do not claim that all of this dialogue is mine. The writers are just as much a part of this story as I am.**

* * *

" _I don't think we should do Operation Cobra anymore," Henry told her quietly, still not looking at her. Emma gave him a pained expression and sat down beside him on the play gym._

" _Why do you say that?" she asked softly. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. It broke her heart to see him like this. Henry was usually her optimistic rock; he always had hope. Now he looked defeated._

" _The Evil Queen killed Graham just because he started to remember. This is getting too dangerous. If she was willing to do that to him, then she might…" Henry paused for moment, looking at her with wide eyes. "Then she might hurt you too." Emma sighed and pushed the hair out of his eyes._

" _Henry…Graham died of natural causes…the autopsy said so…" she began._

" _Good. You still don't believe. That'll keep you safe," he said, looking away again. He pulled out his storybook and gazed at it sadly._

" _I don't think we should involve Mr. Jones either," he said suddenly, causing Emma to look at him sharply._

" _What do you mean? Why do you say that?" she asked. God, if that woman had told Henry anything about the two of them…_

" _We can't risk him remembering. He's so close already…What if the queen goes after him too?" Henry said. "She's evil. She can do whatever she wants, because she doesn't have to follow the rules, like us. That's why the heroes can't win. That's why you can't win." Emma was quiet for moment, deciding on what comforting thing she could say._

" _Henry…I promise. Good will win."_

It had been weeks since Graham's death, and weeks since she had seen Killian. She had refused to wear the sheriff's badge for as long as she could, but eventually she had to. Especially when it meant that she had the chance to beat Regina and show Henry that good could win. Emma still couldn't believe that she had won, or that Mr. Gold could be so deceitful. She still hadn't seen Killian. Not since the night on the boat.

 _It's good to distance yourself. Now is not the time for romance._ Emma tried to tell herself this every time an unwelcome thought intruded her consciousness. Instead of getting easier, Emma found herself thinking of the intense blue of his eyes every time she closed hers. How he scratched behind his ear when he was nervous. How his face softened when he talked about the ocean or looked at her. God. She had only talked to the man a few times. Why was the memory of him so persistent?

The door of the bathroom slammed behind Emma and Mary Margaret rushed past her, hurriedly wrapping a scarf around her neck.

"Whoa. Where are you going in such a hurry? You haven't even had breakfast," Emma said, looking at her friend skeptically. Mary Margaret looked frantically around for her coat and briefcase.

"I can't believe I overslept. I have to get to the school…" she began, rushing to the little table to grab a book. Emma looked at the clock, then back to her with one eyebrow raised.

"It's only seven ten. You have plenty of time to get to school."

"No, I have to be there at seven fifteen – science fair. I'm helping the kids with their project before school." Mary Margaret said lamely, not even trying to make the lie sound reasonable.

"I'm sure the kids will be okay if you're a little late," Emma pressed. Mary Margaret looked at her in mock disbelief.

"We're making a volcano." And with that intriguing statement, she was out the door. Emma quickly got up and rushed upstairs to her wardrobe. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. If she was right about Mary Margaret's true intentions, then she had to put a stop to this.

Sure enough, when Emma arrived at Granny's, Mary Margaret was sitting at a table, out of breath and checking her reflection in a spoon. Emma leaned against the archway that lead to the back room, trying to catch her own breath. Mary Margaret, who still hadn't noticed her, looked behind her out the window. She hurriedly picked up her book and pretended to read. Emma looked out the window. Yep. Just as she had expected. David was making his way up to the diner's entrance. Emma rushed to the table and sat down across her friend. Mary Margaret looked up in surprise.

"This is making a volcano?" Emma asked quietly. Mary Margaret's eyes darkened a little and she was about to say something when the bell tinkled behind them. Her eyes followed David to the counter, watching him pick up his order. He turned around and, finally noticing her, walked up to their table with a small smile.

"Good morning," he said kind of awkwardly. Mary Margaret grinned.

"Good morning!" she said, looking a little too cheerful. David smiled at her enthusiasm, then looked to the door with a disappointed expression.

"I-uh. Should go. I'm going to be late for work," he said.

"Oh! At the animal shelter right?" Mary asked. "How's that going?"

"Well the apes haven't taken over," he joked.

"Yet." God you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Emma wondered if she should intervene. It turned out she didn't have to; David finally seemed to notice her there.

"Oh. Hi Emma! I didn't uh- how are you?" he asked, looking away from Mary Margaret. She gave Emma a worried look, hoping she wouldn't say anything.

"Um, I'm good. Thanks," she said, wondering why he wasn't leaving after just saying he was in a hurry. She needed to talk to her friend.

"How's the sheriff life treating you?" he asked. Why wasn't he leaving?

"Fine, fine. Uh, not a lot happens in Storybrooke, so…nothing too exciting," Emma said. David finally got to the point.

"So…I saw Killian the other day. The guy from the party?" Emma tensed. As if she needed reminding of who he was. "He asked about you…Seemed kind of upset. I hope everything's okay." Mary Margaret was looking at her with a very interested expression.

"Yeah. Everything's fine," she said, barely moving her lips. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"He seemed pretty sorry about whatever happened…Maybe you should talk to him?" David suggested. Emma had to try very hard to resist scoffing at that. As if she would ever take relationship advice from _him_. The guy that had broken her best friend's heart.

"Well. I should go." David left, and Emma saw him hand the coffee to Katherine and kiss her on the cheek before driving away. She turned her attention back to Mary Margaret, who was still observing her as if she was truly seeing her for the first time.

"This doesn't look like a science fair," Emma said pointedly. Mary Margaret showed some humility.

"I was-" she began, but Emma stopped her.

"I get it."

"He comes here every morning at 7:15 a.m. to get coffee," Mary Margaret tried to explain. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"For him and his wife," she pointed out.

"I know, I know, I know. I just like to…come here to see him." She winced at her own words.

"So you're a stalker?"

"No! No. I just…know where he's at most of the time…with Katherine. Or at work…" Mary Margaret looked down at her hands, looking defeated. "I can't get him out of my head."

"I know. Maybe the first step is not showing up here tomorrow," Emma suggested. Mary Margaret sighed.

"Love is the worst. I wish there was a magic cure," she said, then paused to look at Emma with that interested expression again. "Speaking of…How about we talk about you now." Emma tried to feign ignorance. "David said something about…you and Killian Jones?"

"We've met…a couple of times. The last time didn't…end well," Emma admitted. She was still telling the truth, technically. Mary Margaret pursed her lips.

"I didn't even know you two knew each other. Doesn't he work at the docks?" Mary asked, looking suspicious. Oh God.

"Um yeah. I think so…" Emma began to lean away from the intensity of her stare. Understanding lit up Mary's face.

"Ah. And there's that wall again." She stood up with a knowing look, slightly condescending. She then left Emma sitting there, alone and thoughtful.

* * *

The storm was moving in fast. Dark clouds swirled in the distance, quickly moving closer and closer. The wind grew harsher, whipping Emma's hair around in disarray as she tried to load the storm supplies into the trunk of the squad car.

" _Storybrooke is seeing wind gusts of up to 6 miles per hour. Your best bet is to stay in the house-"_ The announcer's voice stopped in the middle of his report as the radio shut off. Emma looked up from the trunk to see Regina withdrawing her hand from the window. As usual, she had a less than pleased expression when she addressed Emma. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but couldn't hold back the witty retort already on her lips.

"If you've come to blame me for the storm, I think you're taking things a bit far now," Emma said, continuing to load the boxes. Regina pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"I need you to look into something, sheriff," she began. Emma gave her a disinterested look before lifting the heavy supplies over the lip of the trunk. Regina continued. "Someone's in town—someone new." The memory of the dark haired man in a leather jacket on a motorcycle popped into Emma's mind.

"Yeah, I know. I gave him directions to Granny's the other night," Emma grunted, lifting a heavy bag and a bundle of flairs into the car.

"You talked to him? What'd he say?" Regina made no attempt to assist Emma as she struggled with the next bag.

"He asked for directions. What's the big deal? Who is he?" Why was the mayor so distrusting of a man she had never met? Sure, be wary of strangers, but this seemed excessive.

"I don't know. I asked around, but no one seems to know anything. There's something about him—something familiar," Regina trailed off, looking off into the distance with a worried expression. Emma smirked.

"He must be one of the untold millions you cursed," Emma said, laughing inwardly at Regina's expression.

"What?"

"Oh, you know, the curse. Henry's whole thing." A cold gust of wind lifted her hair again and made her shiver as she lifted a container of gas. The mayor held herself tighter, pulling her coat closer to her body. Her eyes told Emma that she had had enough banter.

"Sheriff, I need you to find out who he is, what he wants and what he's doing here," Regina ordered. Emma sighed in exasperation and straightened up to face her.

"You know, as hard as you tried to find one in my case, there is no law against visiting Storybrooke," she said, and the mayor's face hardened.

"This isn't about the law, Miss Swan. You're going to do this because I asked you to. And because you'll see it's the right thing to do." Emma scoffed and Regina continued. "Because he was in front of my house, taking an interest in the one thing we both care about—Henry."

Emma observed her for a moment, the wind chapping her cheeks as she thought. Could this man be a threat? He didn't seem like one the other night. He just looked like a friendly visitor. Granted, a slightly mysterious, leather-clad, motorcycle-riding visitor... God, was Regina getting into her head? Maybe she should check him out, just in case. For Henry's sake…

"I'll look into him," she finally said, closing the car trunk and snatching the keys from her jacket pocket. Regina pursed her lips again and walked away.

* * *

It was as if the dark cloud above the town had finally torn open and the water now poured without restraint from it. Not able to drive safely any longer, Emma parked in what was hopefully an okay spot in front of Granny's. The lights were out in the diner, just like the rest of the town. Emma hurried from the squad car into the safety of the building. Thunder clapped and lightning flashed outside as she opened the door to the diner, the bell announcing her presence. She exhaled deeply and bounced up and down, trying to beat away the chill that had enveloped her. There were few people within the diner, most huddled together as they tried to dry off. She briefly noticed a small group of men standing dripping in the doorway to the back room, but her eyes zeroed in on the lone figure in the booth in front of them. His back was turned to her, but she recognized the dark waves of hair and leather jacket. Squaring up her shoulders she walked up behind him.

"We need to talk." She could sense rather than see his smug smirk before he answered.

"Why?" he asked, his smile coming into view as she placed herself in front of him.

"Because you're suspicious." Emma tried to keep her face stoic, even as she winced inwardly at the lame excuse. He was just a tourist, visiting a quaint little town in Maine. All of this curse nonsense was getting to her head.

"Sitting here? Out in the open, drinking coffee. I wonder what hell I would've raised had I ordered a donut?" he taunted. She narrowed her eyes at him, not enjoying his attitude.

"You were talking to Henry-"

"You mean the little kid who came up to me asking me questions? Is that unusual for him being curious and precocious?" he drawled, daring her to contradict him. She didn't give up so easily.

"What were you doing outside his house?" she asked, trying her best to sound authoritative. He told her that his bike broke down, that it happens. She looked down, trying to find something else to question him about. A large wooden box lay at their feet. Not for the first time, Emma wondered what was in there. Now seemed as good a time as any.

"Your mysterious box. What's in it?" she asked, and his eyes lit up at the question.

"It's awfully frustrating not knowing, isn't it?" he said, and she gave him a disgruntled look in return. "Is it illegal to carry a box around in these parts?" He was openly mocking her now.

"No, of course not."

"You really want to know don't you?" Emma sat down in response. He settled back, his grey eyes narrowed at her. "I'm going to make you wait. You're going to have to wait a _long_ time and watch me carry it around, hauling it to strange and mysterious places." Emma leaned forward in disbelief, listening carefully. "And with each passing moment, the mystery will become more tantalizing. Your imagination will inflame, but so will your frustration, never knowing, only guessing what could possibly be inside that box?" The man was sounding dangerously like a villainous character. He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling now.

"Or…you could let me buy you a drink sometime, and I'll tell you right now." That surprised her, but she didn't let it show. That entire speech was just an insane prelude to an attempt at flirting?

"Okay, a drink it is," she said finally. He smiled mischievously at her and lifted the wooden box onto the table with a thump. He quickly flipped the latches and slowly lifted the lid to reveal a…typewriter?

"I'm a writer. I find this place provides…inspiration. Don't you?" He shut the case, ignoring her look of disbelief. He stood up from the booth, not fully answering her questions. He began to walk away and she called out a little louder.

"What about that drink?"

"I said sometime," he smirked, and then was gone.

Emma flopped back into the booth with a sharp exhale. She could see why Regina was so worried now. That man was…infuriatingly obscure. Was he really just here to...write? Was that a thing people did? And she still didn't even know his name...

"Is this seat taken?" Emma jumped and her eyes widened when she saw who was standing in front of her. Killian stood there, hair dripping into his crystal blue eyes. He had an uncertain look on his face, glancing back to where the other man had disappeared. Emma worriedly wondered how much of their conversation he had heard, then wondered why she cared.

"Mr. Jones," she said in an awkward greeting. His shoulders drooped at the formal greeting.

"Ms. Swan," he answered. He sat with her allowance and they both sat in silence for a moment. Emma thought back to that morning. David had said that Killian had seemed fairly upset. Judging by the way his eyes fell every time she looked at him, the way he kept reaching back to scratch behind his ear, and how his leg kept shaking incessantly beneath the table, Emma could see how David might come across the notion. Guilt burned down her chest and settled in her stomach. Hopefully this didn't have anything to do with her. No such luck.

"Emma…I wanted to…apologize," he said slowly, as if scared she would run away again. She didn't, only clasping her hands tightly on top of the table as he continued. "I shouldn't have tried to do what I did. I hope you know that I would never purposefully force you in any way to-" She cut him off.

"Stop." He looked at her in confusion. "It's—okay. I guess I understand. It was late, we were both tired and, let's face it, the rum wasn't helping. You don't have to apologize; I'm the one acting like a child," she said, looking anywhere but his blue eyes as she spoke, not wanting to see any spark of hope or disappointment there.

"I shouldn't have run off the way I did. It's just—I'm not here to start a relationship of any kind besides the one with my son. I'm here for Henry. And I guess I was just…trying to remind myself that." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. When she finished, she finally looked up to see what he thought of her little speech. He looked very thoughtful, his jaw clenching slightly as he worked through whatever was going on in his mind. Finally, he met her eyes and smiled softly.

"Aye. It appears I have more to apologize for than originally thought," Killian said, stopping her when she began to protest. "I never want to get between you and your son, love. If my advances were the cause of any crack developing in your relationship… Well, I cannot say how sorry I am. That night on the boat…it was not a good night for me. As you said, I was tired and a tad bit inebriated. Unexpected thoughts of my brother might have warranted my behavior.

"But Emma," he continued, reaching out and touching the spot right before her clasped hands. "I hope that my actions have not ruined whatever bond we may have formed before. I—I would very much like to be a companion to you."

Killian looked at her hopefully but unsurely. She didn't know what to say. She didn't think anyone had ever been so open and...sincere to her before; all cockiness and swagger was gone from the man at that moment. And despite her aversion to admit so, she couldn't help but think she wanted Killian as a friend as well. Everything he had done so far for her… and his willingness to speak to her even after her rudeness. She unclasped her fingers and gently laid her hand on top of his. It was very warm and she had to fight the urge to intertwine their fingers.

"I would like that too," she finally admitted. His face lit up and he beamed at her, his blues eyes lighting up so much that she was surprised that the dark sky didn't mimic them. A grunt behind her made them pull apart. A stout, bearded man in a red beanie was looking at Killian with a disgruntled expression, obviously waiting for him to return. They must have been heading to the docks when the storm hit. Killian sighed and stood up.

"Alas, love. I must go. But I would very much like to speak again. Soon." He looked at her with an expression that hinted at his previous arrogance and smolder, and she couldn't help but think 'soon' couldn't get there soon enough. He gently held her hand in farewell, refraining from kissing her knuckles as he had done before.

"Until next time."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for all of the follows and favorites! I'm working on the next chapter and hopefully will have it out 'soon' enough. I also really love reviews!**


	9. Robbery

**So have you ever planned something for so long and had so many expectations that once you work on it, nothing seems right? That's what has been happening with this and the next chapter. Originally, I was going to have everything in one long chapter, but that would probably take another few weeks and it has been too long since my last update. I apologize for that, but if all goes according to plan, hopefully you can forgive me by the next chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or rights to OUAT. The writers are just as much a part of this fic as I am.**

* * *

The thing about loneliness is that you never get used to it. Sure, you can get used to being alone, but no one can really become used to the actually feeling of being _lonely_. After 28 years of being alone, Emma still wasn't used to it. Especially after being rid of it for so long in Storybrooke.

She was lonely now. She missed Henry. Every time she thought back to her failed attempt to overthrow Regina, a sick feeling settled in her stomach. Her words kept repeating like a mantra in Emma's head.

" _If I wanted to, there's not a judge in the world that would deny me a restraining order after what you've done. You don't get to see my son unless I say so. And right now? I don't say so."_

She had let the kid down yet again; that day on the playground had nearly killed her when she had to drive away from him. And she had tried to keep her promise to find the book and a way back into his life, but a day had turned into a week, and a week was quickly turning into two. She still hadn't thought of a way to (legally) be in her son's life again, and it looked as though the book was gone for good. And to make matters even worse, tomorrow would be Valentine's Day, one of the most depressing holidays of the year.

 _It doesn't have to be,_ a small voice said in the back of her mind. Emma quickly chased the thought away. No. Now is not the time for _that_.

She dressed in warm clothing and made sure her phone was on before heading out of the apartment. She had missed seeing Mary Margaret that morning, but knew exactly where she would be. Having her "secret" meeting with David at Granny's. Emma walked in through the back of the diner and saw Mary in her usual spot, glancing over at David in the adjacent booth.

"Hey David," she said as she pulled out the chair to Mary's table. He looked up at her in surprise, as if finding it difficult to look away from the other woman. David gave a mumbled greeting and pretended to continue reading his book. Emma smirked and sat down.

"So…" she drawled, stealing a fry from Mary's plate, "How's your day going?" Mary Margaret didn't miss a beat.

"Henry's fine."

Emma tilted her head and smiled slightly, as if surprised by her answer.

"That's not what I asked you," she began, but Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows and gave her a knowing look. Emma conceded. "You sure?"

"Really. He's his normal self. Regina won't keep you separate forever," Mary assured. "When people are supposed to be together," Mary continued, looking over at David with a smile when she thought Emma wasn't looking, "they find a way." Emma stuffed a few more fries into her mouth to keep from giving the two a knowing grin.

"Yeah," she said with her mouth full, "So he's his normal self. He's fine. He's happy?" Emma tried to keep her expression normal when asking the last part.

"Yes!" Mary said, and Emma furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. Mary Margaret's eyes widened when she realized. The bell jingled behind her, announcing someone's arrival. "No! He misses you. A lot. Trust me. I'm with him, like, six hours a day."

"Six hours? Do you take newborns? 'Cause I'd _love_ six hours off," a tired looking Ashley Boyd said, handing a fussing baby over to Granny.

"Ashley! I didn't even recognize you," Mary Margaret exclaimed as she turned around. Ashley picked up a chair and dragged it to their table, cutting off Mary and David's shared looks.

"Baby on the outside?" Ashley said, huffing as she sat down. The baby still cried behind them.

"How's it going?" Emma asked. Ashley was looking fairly flustered as she pushed drooping blonde curls away from her face and adjusted the baby carrier on her chest. The circles under her eyes told Emma that she hadn't had any sleep in days.

"It's, uh… It's, uh… I mean the baby's great, but, uh, we really haven't had time to do the whole getting married thing, so that's been rough, and Sean's been working double shifts at the cannery," Ashley said, looking more and more defeated as she continued. Mary Margaret tried to be understanding.

"Mm, he has to work," Mary said, raising her shoulders slightly. Ashley pursed her lips.

"On Valentine's day? Yeah. He couldn't get out of it," Ashley said, looking down in disappointment. Emma gave her a sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry. That sucks," she said just as Ruby walked up behind her and set a cup of coffee in front of Ashley.

"It doesn't have to," Ruby said in an excited tone. "Come out with me! Let's have a girl's night. We can all go! Mary Margaret, Emma too, _if_ you leave the badge at home."

Both Mary Margaret and Emma looked at Ruby in surprise. Mary glanced over at David briefly. Emma gave an apologetic look.

"I'm not really in the party mood, but you guys can all go and have fun," Emma said, giving Mary a meaningful look. Mary's eyes widened and she looked at Emma as if she had betrayed her. Ruby giggled in excitement and walked away to help another customer. David was giving the girl's a worried look. Just then, Emma's phone buzzed. She looked down at it in surprise. The sheriff's station was calling.

"What's that," Mary Margaret asked.

"It's the station. Something's up," Emma said as she rose from her seat. She briefly glanced at each of the girls before leaving.

As she walked out the front entrance, she barely noticed Killian as he was walking up. Emma raised her hand in greeting, ignoring the butterflies that began to flutter in her stomach, as she listened to the message on her phone. Neighbors were reporting a possible break in. Killian waved his hand slightly in return, frowning at her expression.

"Everything all right, love?" he asked as she placed the phone in her jacket pocket. She smiled faintly at him, pausing her stride to the yellow bug.

"Yeah, there's just been a possible break in at someone's house. Duty calls," Emma said, smiling in farewell and continuing to her car.

Not looking book, she yanked the door open and climbed in. She placed the key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. She tried again. A sputtering noise emitted from the engine but died out again.

"Seriously? Now?" she said out loud to the car, feeling betrayed by the old friend. A knock on her window made her jump. Killian was leaning down and looking worriedly at her through the window. She opened the door with a huff, forcing him to step back.

"Your vessel giving you troubles, Swan?" he asked. She shook her head at his terminology but answered in the positive.

"I've been meaning to take it to the mechanic's but haven't had the time. Why did this have to happen right now? Now what?" she said, breathing out an annoyed sigh. Sure she could walk to the station and grab the sheriff's car, but that might take time she didn't have. Killian reached up to scratch behind his ear.

"If you are in need of transportation…perhaps I can be of assistance," he suggested. She immediately began to shake her head.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You're busy and I wouldn't want to…be a bother," she said awkwardly and his eyes heated up.

"I could never tire of you, love. And as for my availability, I had only planned to join David for lunch. I am sure he will understand if I miss," he said, and she hesitated only for a moment before answering. Time could be critical in situations like this.

* * *

They rode mostly in silence, only speaking once as they got into the rusted truck and Emma told him the address.

"That's Mr. Gold's house," he said in surprise, a look of disgust taking over his features.

"Yes, I know. And I need to get there. Like, now," Emma said calmly and looking pointedly at the key he had yet to turn. Killian sighed and started the car.

"Who in their right mind would steal from that man…if you can even call him a man," he said as he began driving in the house's direction. Emma rolled her eyes.

"And exactly what would you call him?" she asked. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking straight ahead. He answered seriously despite his ridiculous response.

"He's more like a…crocodile." Emma snorted at that, and Killian tried to further explain his assessment of Mr. Gold. "He's cold-blooded and hard skinned. I wouldn't doubt him turning on you in a second. Just look at how he treats the townspeople." He still had a look of disgust on his face. Emma decided then that he didn't need to know about her deal with Mr. Gold.

When they arrived at the house, Emma's eyes immediately zoomed in on the open front door. It was what had tipped the neighbors off. She reached to her side and withdrew a gun, checking its chamber to see that it was loaded.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you're doing?" Killian said furrowing his eyebrows and reaching out as if to stop her.

"I don't know if the robber is still in there, or if they're armed. Relax, it's just to be safe," Emma reassured him. He still didn't look too happy, as if the thought of her doing anything dangerous upset him. Sighing, she laid her hand on his shoulder, and at her touch he relaxed slightly.

"I'll be fine. You stay here. I mean it," she continued as he began to protest. "I'm the sheriff. This is my job. Do not make me pull my badge on you." Giving him one last look, Emma turned to exit the truck. Before she could step out, his hand wrapped around her wrist and she turned to face him again. He had a very earnest expression.

"Do be careful, love, and come back in one piece. I happen to like every part of you," he said. _Buddy you have no idea what you're getting yourself into_.

Emma just nodded and continued on to the house. She quietly stepped through the front door, her gun lowered in front of her. Tip-toeing further in, she heard a shuffle in the other room. Someone was still in there. She quickly moved to the side of the archway, reading herself for what might come next and taking deep, calming breathes. With one last gulp of air, Emma snapped her gun out in front of her and whipped around the corner, only to come face-first with the barrel of a gun and the sound of two guns clicking. It took her a moment to realize her situation.

"Sheriff Swan," Mr. Gold said. He sounded more annoyed than relieved.

"Your neighbors saw your door open and called it in," she told him rather shakily. Killian's worry must have gotten into her head; she was usually never this nervous. Mr. Gold's face was eerily calm.

"It appears I've been robbed," he said, still holding up the small pistol. Emma didn't let down her guard either.

"Funny how that keeps happening to you." His eyes didn't leave hers, as if he were challenging her.

"Yeah well," he said, finally lowering the gun and clicking the safety back on, "I'm a difficult man to love." An emotion flashed across his face for a second, but was gone before Emma could pinpoint it. She lowered her gun too, placing it back in its holster after clicking on the safety. To replace it, she pulled out her phone, ready to take any notes or pictures necessary.

"Sheriff Swan, you can go now. I know exactly what was taken and who did it," he said insolently. She looked up from her phone, eyeing him suspiciously. Exactly how many enemies did this man have? "I've got it from here." She smirked and let her phone fall to her side.

"No you don't," she said, tilting her head in disdain. "This was a robbery. Public menace. And if you don't tell me what you know, I'll have to arrest _you_ for obstruction of justice. I have a feeling you don't want to be behind bars." He rolled his eyes at her, and her eyes narrowed even further.

"Indeed not." He seemed to consider his position for a moment before continuing at the raise of her eyebrows. "All right, his name is Moe French. He sells flowers. He recently defaulted on a loan. A short time ago we had a little…disagreement over collateral." He pursed his lips at her once he said all that he would. Emma had a feeling that he was putting this _very_ formally.

"Okay. I'll go get him, check him out," she said, putting away her phone and taking out her gloves. She began to walk away, but he spoke behind her. She turned around slowly as he spoke.

"I'm sure you will, assuming I don't find him…" he said, licking his lips and looking off into the distance with a questionable expression. He chuckled under his breath and looked back at her, causing her to furrow her eyebrows. "Let's just say bad things tend to happen to bad people."

"Is that a threat?" Emma asked, challenging him. He furrowed his eyebrows in mock incredulity.

"Observation."

And with that, Emma turned away and made her way back to the front door, smacking into something as soon as she stepped out. She immediately reached for her gun, but froze when she looked up into cerulean eyes.

"Killian, what the hell? I told you to stay in the truck," she said stepping around him. He followed her, still holding a worried expression.

"You were taking an exceptional amount of time, Swan. I thought something might have happened," Killian said, pulling the door of the truck open for her as soon as they reached it.

"Just a little run-in with Mr. Gold. Long story short," she said, cutting him off before he could say anything, "I have a prime suspect and need to get back to the sheriff station to start my search for him." Killian made his way around to the other side and closed the door behind him, locking them into the small space. He looked over at her.

"May I ask who we are searching for?" he asked, and she immediately began to shake her head.

"Whoa, whoa. No. There is no _we_. This is sheriff business. _We_ immediately end as soon as you drop me off at the station so that I can find the florist's address," she said before realizing.

"Ah. So we are looking for Moe French. It makes sense; he and Mr. Gold made quite the, uh, scene earlier," he said, giving her a smug look before starting the vehicle. She pursed her lips.

He backed out of the driveway and began to drive. The opposite direction of the sheriff's station.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she gasped as they made a left turn.

"To Moe French's house," he replied calmly, ignoring her sound of indignation. "Swan, time is critical. This needs to be dealt with as soon as possible. Going to the assailant's home should be the first thing to do, not wasting time going to the station first. You have your handcuffs, correct?" Emma looked at him incredulously before nodding deftly. "Excellent. Then there should be no problem."

She studied him through narrowed eyes for a moment. He looked rather smug, knowing that the logic outweighed whatever argument she presented him with. With a huff she sat back in her seat, giving into the kidnapping.

"Jones, you are walking a thin line," she said menacingly, and he merely grinned at her.

The house he stopped in front of was run down and decrepit. Only the many roses in front gave some sort of beauty to the home. Emma didn't even question how Killian knew where the man's house was, accepting that he must stick his nose in everyone's business and not just hers. She didn't even try to stop him as he followed her to the front door, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. The windows were dark and the house looked empty. She knocked on the door anyway.

"Moe French? This is Emma Swan, Storybrooke sheriff. I have some questions for you," she called, putting her hand on her gun just in case. She also kept glancing towards the back of the house, making sure no one tried to make a run for it. No one answered her. She knocked again harder, and called louder. "Moe. Open up." Still no response. Trying the door handle, she discovered that it was locked.

She felt in her pockets for anything that might help her, finally finding a spare bobby pin. Emma knelt down to be on eyelevel with the lock and began to work on it with the pin.

"And exactly what do you think you're doing?" Killian said, it being his turn to sound incredulous. She didn't look up from her task, her tongue sticking out slightly as she focused.

"It's all in the tumblers," she muttered, and grinned when there was an audible click. The door swung open. Emma stood and faced Killian, grin still in place. He was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What?" she said defensively. He shook his head, smiling.

"You will never cease to amaze me, Swan." And with that endearment, he stepped through the threshold before she could. With an annoyed grunt, she pushed past him, taking in her surroundings once inside. There were plants everywhere, taking over almost every space available. The furniture was old and dusty, with few personal belongings to indicate any attachment. Emma crept through the empty house, walking past the living room and into the kitchen. The sink was filled with dirty dishes, as if his majesty didn't know how to clean up after himself. And there, on the table, wrapped in a bed sheet, was Mr. Gold's stolen property.

"Bingo," Emma said, walking up to the evidence. She checked everything to make sure it was alright, then around the room to see if anything else belonged in the pile. "Help me sweep this place," she told Killian, walking back to the living room. He headed in the other direction, to what she assumed was the bedroom. After a thorough search of the house, they returned to the kitchen. No other missing item was found. Nor was Moe French.

Emma carefully wrapped the objects back up in the sheet, trying not to crush or disturb anything.

"We need to get back to the station. And I really mean _the sheriff's station_ this time, Killian," she said, giving him a meaningful look.

He raised his hands in surrender and they went back to the truck, Mr. Gold's belongings in tow. On the way back, Emma tried to call the man's house phone, to no avail. It went straight to voicemail. They walked up to the building and Emma took out her key to unlock the front door. She stopped him before he came in.

"This is where we part ways," she told him, and his shoulders drooped slightly. He gave her a questioning look. "Killian…that man is still out there. He's a public menace and needs to be found. I am officially cutting off all civilian help.

"Besides," she continued, looking around them at the now dark landscape. "It's late. You should probably be getting home." He gave her a peculiar look before giving in. He could tell she wasn't going to budge on this.

"Aye. As should you, love," he said. Emma opened the door and flipped on the switch inside, letting the light illuminate both of them. She could finally see his concerned expression and gave him a small reassuring smile.

"Trust me, I'll be fine. Goodnight, Killian," she said. He looked at her a moment longer, searching her face. Finally, he reached down and took her unoccupied hand in his, briefly and softly pressing his lips to her knuckles.

"Goodnight, Emma."

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 **Thank you for reading! And thank you to all who have followed, favorited, and put up with waiting. And remember, I love reviews!**


	10. Something's Got a Hold on Me

**Sorry for the long periods between updates; I just couldn't get the words to flow right.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not claim that all of this writing is mine. The writers are just as much a part of this fic as I am.**

* * *

Emma couldn't help but be a little dramatic with the reveal. She yanked the white sheet away to reveal all of the older man's stolen property, exactly as it was before. His expression remained troubled as he observed the objects before him.

"You're welcome. You were right. Your man Moe ripped you off," she said, haphazardly folding the sheet and tossing it aside. She pulled out her desk chair and sat down, leaning back with a smug expression. "It was all still at his place." He looked less than thrilled.

"And the man himself?" he asked, barely moving his lips. You would think he would at least be relieved to see his belongings back and unscathed.

"Closing in on him," she replied. After Killian had left her last night, Emma had tried again to call Mr. Gold and tell him she had found his things. When that had failed, and it had grown too late to go to his house, she had started researching the perpetrator to see where he usually liked to hang out and his possible location. After this meeting, she would head over to the flower shop and the mechanics.

"So…job well half done then," Mr. Gold said, and Emma became defensive.

"In less than a day, I got everything back. Is something wrong?" she said in an annoyed tone.

"You recovered nothing," he hissed, setting his cane down and starting to walk away. "There's something missing." She looked at him in disbelief, leaning forward as she called out to his retreating form.

"I'll get it when I find him," she said. He turned around slowly with a dangerous expression.

"Not if I find him first," he warned with an intimidating smile, and then he was gone. She stared after him for a moment, not sure if she should follow him or if she should take his warnings seriously and try to find Moe first. She decided that the latter was the best option; Gold looked…dangerous. Not for the first time, Emma wondered exactly what he was so desperate to get back.

Emma decided to go to the flower shop first, figuring that the first place he would go would be his business. When she arrived in front of the shop, the sign on the front announced that it was closed. All of the windows had closed blinds, making the shop look even more abandoned. She exited the sheriff car, walking slowly up to the entrance, trying the door in case of dumb luck. Nope.

"He's not here ma'am," a man said from behind her. She turned around with a questioning look. He elaborated. "Mr. French. He never returned after Mr. Gold took the flowers. Practically all of our stock was in that truck. There was no use for him to return to a failed business," he said sadly. Emma rested a hand on her hip, pulling aside her jacket to show the badge clipped to her waistband.

"And you are?" she asked the small man.

"I work for Mr. French. I help with the arrangements," he replied.

"And do you have a key?" she asked, not bothering trying to wrench a name from him. He nodded, pulling out a ring of keys and walking up to the door and commenting on how she wouldn't find anything. He was right; not only was Moe nowhere to be found, the shelves and tables were sparse. She thanked the man after informing him of the situation, in which he didn't even act surprised.

The auto shop seemed like the logical place to go next, considering the delivery truck had needed several repairs in the past. Over the years, Moe had become close to the owner. Close enough for him to hide out at his place? Emma wasn't sure. But it was a start. Plus, if she was being honest, she wanted to see how her bug was doing.

When she walked in, she was surprised to see David at the counter. He turned around when the bell announced her arrival. He smiled at her and she returned it with her own.

"David! What are you doing here?" she asked, and he sighed.

"The old truck has been coughing lately and I thought she might need a little checkup. What about you? Did that old geezer finally die on you?" he joked and she pretended to look offended.

"My car is perfectly fine thank you…after Michael is done with it," she admitted and he laughed. "Actually, that's not the only reason why I'm here. This is actually sheriff business."

His puzzled expression urged her to continue, explaining Moe French's recent decent into lawbreaking.

"And honestly, I'm more worried about what Mr. Gold will do if he finds him first. He's been acting really shifty. He might be dangerous at the moment," she finished, just as Michael came in from the back door. David furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him," he said. He began to walk to the exit, but turned around before leaving. Emma, expecting him to say goodbye, was surprised when he asked, "Are you going out with Mary Margaret tonight?" She opened her mouth, not sure of how to respond. It seemed so random, but something was obviously weighing on his mind.

"Oh, um. I wasn't planning to. I kind of have a criminal to catch?" she reminded him. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Well…we all could use a break from time to time," he said, looking a little sad. Then with a smile, he bid her adieu. Emma shook her head before turning back to the mechanic.

"Michael! How are the twins?" she asked, hoping to break any awkwardness first before interrogating him.

"Surprisingly good actually… I didn't expect to like this whole father thing but…It's nice," he said with a fond smile, and Emma felt a twinge in her heart. She still missed Henry. "Now before you ask, Moe isn't here." She raised her eyes suspiciously and he raised his hands in surrender.

"I overheard your conversation with David. And I'm telling you, I haven't seen him since yesterday morning when he had that falling out with Mr. Gold," he said, saying the name with disgust. Geez. How many enemies did the guy have?

"And my old friend in the garage?" she asked, her 'superpower' letting her know he was telling the truth about Moe.

"Still resting. You can pick it up tomorrow," he said with a small smile and she nodded thanks.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching for her wallet, but he waved her off.

"A guy came in earlier and took care of it. I think it was that Jones guy. He said he was your friend," he said with a smile before turning away. Emma just stood there, not knowing what to say. Surely Killian wouldn't have done that…would he? A warm feeling began to develop in her chest, but was immediately accompanied by guilt. She hadn't even thanked him for helping her in the first place. Why would he do something like this?

 _Because he feels the same connection between you and him that you feel._ Emma shook her head, smiling in farewell to the mechanic and leaving, thoughts still swirling in her mind. She wanted to believe that Killian would be different, that this connection she felt was real. But she just couldn't shake the fear of being wrong about him. And with that last thought, Emma continued on with her search.

The rest of the afternoon brought nothing; all of her leads took her right back to where she had started. It was like the guy had vanished, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately. David was right; she needed a break. As if by magic, her phone began to buzz just as she had the thought. She looked at the text while exiting the general store.

 **Ruby:** _Girlz nite offer still on table ;)_

Emma stuck out her tongue while thinking. A drink did sound pretty good right now. And it was getting too dark to really be searching. Plus, she was running out of distractions from the persistent thoughts of Killian Jones. Making a quick decision, Emma replied.

* * *

She had never been to the Rabbit Hole before, but apparently all of Storybrooke knew about the place. It shouldn't have surprised her; Valentine's Day was probably one of the busiest times of year for a bar. She quickly spotted her friends at a table near one of the lattice structures. Ashley was doing shots and as she walked up, Emma heard Mary Margaret warn, "Pace yourself Ashley."

"Yeah, Ashley. Save some for the rest of us," Emma joked as she pulled out a chair beside Ruby. All three of them looked up with delighted surprise.

"Emma! You came! That badge had better be back at the station," Ruby said with a grin before smirking. "However, I hope you brought your handcuffs. They might be useful tonight if…you know. Someone catches your eye," she nudged Emma with her shoulder, waggling her eyebrows. Emma snorted and Mary Margaret gave Ruby a disbelieving look. Ashley, meanwhile, had ordered another shot and was downing it as they spoke.

"Ashley! Go easy with the tequila!" Mary said, setting down her own white wine. Ashely grinned.

"I am! This is the first night out since I've had the baby. I am making up for lost time," she said, and Ruby hummed her approval while sipping on her martini.

"Mmm, Ash, check out those guys," Ruby sang, her eyes on a couple of men that had just walked in. All four girls turned to look at the men with varying levels of interest. Ashley opened her mouth with an uncomfortable expression.

"Oh, hon, no…I'm still with Sean," she said with a shake of her head. Ruby gave her a look.

"So? It's not like your married. And he's not here so-" Ruby was saying, but Emma tuned her out. Because at that moment, Killian walked in to join the three men, who she now recognized as workers from the docks. While the other three stood scanning the area for potential dates, Killian sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. He didn't even look in her direction. Someone cleared their throat and Emma was forced to come back to earth. When she turned back to her friends, Ruby was saying something to her.

"Huh?" she said stupidly. Ruby and Ashley giggled, but Mary Margaret was giving her a sympathetic look.

"I said, 'I see you've noticed Jones,'" Ruby said with a smirk. "Don't worry. You're not the only one. Have you met him yet?" Mary Margaret looked at Killian then raised her eyebrows at Emma, as if waiting to see if she would tell the truth this time. Emma, however, was still in a daze, and didn't answer too quickly.

"I, um, I mean. Yeah. A couple of times," she said, and Mary Margaret continued to give her skeptical expression. Ruby seemed thrilled at her answer though.

"Oooh, someone is smitten with a sailor," Ruby sang, nudging Emma playfully. Emma felt herself blush and Ruby gave her a knowing look. "Oh honey, don't worry. Trust me. You're not the first woman to try and climb that tree. We've all tried, and we've all failed."

"I've never tried," Mary Margaret chimed in, but Ruby waved it aside. Emma looked back at Killian. Many women had tried, huh? And no one had succeeded? In her mind, she had always thought of him as a ladies' man, especially with his flirtatious manner. Maybe he was only that way around her… As she watched him, he raised his glass and she noticed that his sleeves were pushed up, revealing the tattoo again. Her stomach twisted at the memory of the night on the boat, but then an idea popped into her head.

"So…what's his story? Do you know who Milah is?" she tried to ask nonchalantly, but couldn't keep the small hope out of her voice. Both Ashley and Mary furrowed their eyebrows, trying to remember the name, but Ruby was the only one who answered.

"All I know is that he is Mr. Dark and Mysterious when it comes to his personal life. No one knows. From what I've heard, every time someone asks him about his past, he just says, 'It's a long story,'" Ruby said, swirling her drink absentmindedly. Then her eyes sparkled mischievously and she gave a wicked grin. "I wonder if that's the only thing about him that's long."

"Ruby!" Mary Margaret chastised, but the other girl just laughed. She reached over and grabbed Ashley's hand, glancing meaningfully at the men over by the bar.  
"Come on Ash! Don't make me hunt alone!" Ruby grinned and Ashley just gave her an awkward smile back.

"I can't…Sean-" Ashly began, but Ruby cut her off by getting up.

"Yeah, yeah. Is working but still with us somehow. Well, _I_ am going over there. Have fun moping." Ruby sashayed over to the men, who all straightened and looked excited as she approached. Two of them murmured nervously to each other, and one of them nudged Killian. Killian raised his eyes from his drink and looked to where his friend was pointing. His gaze slid right past Ruby and straight to Emma. She felt herself warm and immediately freeze at the same time. Ashley sighed next to her, oblivious to Emma's reaction.

"I thought love would be different," Ashley said in defeat.

"Me too," Mary Margaret agreed in the same frustrated tone, obviously thinking about David.

 _Me too._ The thought shocked Emma, causing her to jump from her seat. Ripping her gaze from Killian's, she sped away from the table without a word. Mary Margaret called out for her, but she kept going until she reached a hallway on the other side of the room. The women's restroom was at the end of the hallway and Emma hurried in. She walked up to one of the sinks and looked into the mirror. She didn't look like someone who could possibly be falling in love. In fact, she looked kind of sick. Well, _a lot_ sick. The door opened behind her and Mary Margaret walked in with a worried expression.

"Emma what happened?" she asked softly, placing her hand gently on her shoulder. Emma shook her head.

"Nothing, I- Nothing," Emma said. Mary gave her a long look.

"It's Killian, isn't it?" she finally said, and Emma jumped in surprise, her eyes widening. Her friend smiled knowingly.

"I told you. I've seen the way you look when you think about him, how your eyes light up. And that was before I actually saw your reaction to _seeing_ him. You should have seen your face," Mary Margaret said with a soft smile. Emma laughed derisively. Love struck and doe-y eyed. Who would have thought she would be accused of such a thing? Mary saw her shutting down again and stepped up again.

"Emma. I know that this can be scary. Love is a scary thing. But you don't have to run away. You have to have hope that things will turn out alright. That love will win in the end," Mary Margaret said fiercely. Her eyes were piercing through Emma at the moment, as if daring her to contradict her. Emma did.

"Mary Margaret…I don't even know what this is. I barely know the guy. Plus, how can I be so optimistic about lo- about this kind of thing, when…it's only hurt me in the past?" Emma asked. They were getting dangerously close to the subject of Neal. Mary Margaret looked understanding.

"I know. It's hard to look past everything that's hurt us. But where would we be if we didn't have hope for something better? For a happy ending? And as for barely knowing him…is that really true? And if it is, does it really matter?" Mary Margaret asked, and Emma thought back to when she first saw him and how he looked oddly familiar to her. Then she thought back to all of the times he had helped her. Reuniting Ashley and Sean, teaching Henry the basics of sailing, helping her find Mr. Gold's property, _paying_ for her car. She thought back to the boat, how he opened up to her about his brother. _We've all tried, and we've all failed._ Everyone who had asked about his past had been shut down, but he had been open with her. Was she the only one who knew about his brother?

Mary Margaret noticed her hesitation and smirked knowingly.

"Come on. Let's go finish celebrating Valentine's Day," she suggested. Emma took a deep breath and went back into the craziness with Mary Margaret. When they arrived at their table again, Ashley looked worried.

"Are you alright?" she asked Emma, and Emma smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah. I just felt sick all of a sudden. I feel better now though," she hurried to say when Ashley opened her mouth. Ashley nodded, then went back to the forlorn position she had taken before they came back. Mary Margaret looked sympathetic.

"Girl's night not really working out for you," she said, and Ashley just sighed.

"I thought it would make me feel better. But the truth is, I need a 'be with my guy night'. But he's never around, and I'm at home with the baby all day. I mean, what's the point of being together if we're not…together?" Ashley asked, looking at the two of them with wide, sad eyes. Mary Margaret looked off into the distance, starting to look sad as well.

"I get it. Loving someone you can't be with—it's a terrible, terrible burden." Emma took a hold of her friend's hand and Mary Margaret gave her an appreciative smile. Ashley pushed away from the table.

"You know, this was a bad idea. I should—I should go home," Ashley said, about to stand when Sean appeared from behind a crowd of people next to their table. He held a bouquet of flowers. All three women looked at him in surprise.

"Ashley?" Sean said with an earnest expression.

"Sean?" Ashley said. "I thought you were working tonight?"

"I am—It's my break. And I…I had to see you. And ask you something," he said, handing her the flowers and getting down on one knee. Ashley covered her mouth, tears developing in her eyes as he pulled out a ring.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, and she didn't say anything, still shocked. He waited a moment before continuing. "And uh, I only have a twenty-minute break, so um, anytime now." Ashley snapped out of her revelry.

"Yes!" she said, and the people around them burst into applause.

"My truck's outside if you want to take a ride before I head back to work. It's not much of a date-" he began but she cut him off.

"It's the best date!" she said, kissing him and taking his hand to leave. Mary Margaret and Emma were left behind, together but alone on Valentine's Day. Mary had looked happy for her friend at first, but was looking dejected again. Emma snuck a glance at Killian, and saw that he was watching her again.

"Go," Mary Margaret said. Emma looked at her questioningly.

"Go to him. Now," Mary Margaret demanded. Emma stared at her for a moment, then, not allowing herself to think, she pushed away from the table and walked over to Killian. His expression went from wonder to surprise as she walked up to him and gestured to the exit.

"Care to take a walk?" she asked. He nodded immediately, leaving behind his drink and friends. Emma ignored Ruby's wolf whistle behind her. They headed outside into the cool February air and walked to a secluded area near the brush.

"I never thanked you for yesterday," she began. He immediately waved the thanks aside.

"For you love, I would go to the ends of the world," he said, and she felt her heart leap.

"And my car-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Can be considered a gift," he said. Emma observed him. "What is it, love?" he asked worriedly.

"I just—Everything you've done for me. Why?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. He gave her a small smile, his eyes soft.

"I believe you know why, Swan," he said, and her cheeks warmed. She tried to play it cool again.

"Well…I guess, thanks," she drawled. He scratched behind his ear and looked down, then raised his eyes innocently with his fingers on the corner of his lips.

"Now, I do believe that thanks is in order," he said, his voice slowing down and deepening to that flirtatious tone again that she was beginning to enjoy more than she should.

"Yeah. That's why I'm thanking you," she said with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrow.

"Is that all my help is worth?" he asked, stepping closer. She slowly shook her head still smirking.

"Please, you couldn't handle it," she murmured, looking up at him coyly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps it is _you_ who couldn't handle it," he said.

For one beat, both didn't say anything, just looking at each other. Then Emma grabbed the lapels of his coat and tugged him to her, crushing his mouth against hers. It took him no time at all to respond, bringing his hand up to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck and his other arm to wrap around her waist. His tongue ran along the bottom of her lip, and she opened her mouth to allow him access. Their heads moved back and forth in synchronization, each trying to take the kiss further. After a while of this, Emma finally pulled back, both of them panting slightly. He tried to chase her lips again, but she pulled away again, letting her forehead rest against his. Her eyes were closed, but she felt his eyebrows furrow.

"That was…" he began, but trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Yeah," she simply replied, agreeing with the unspoken. She leaned away, finally opening her eyes, and his blue eyes shone back at her. He removed his hand from her curls and brought it forward to cup her cheek, then leaned forward again, his lips pressed softly against hers.

This kiss was different from the frenzy of the first one; it was gentle and slowly building, putting all of the unspoken words into one action. It was the kind of kiss that should have happened weeks ago that night on the boat, before she ran away. Looking back, Emma felt stupid about the ordeal. Whoever Milah was, she wasn't there anymore. Emma was.

She tilted her head, trying to deepen the kiss. He willingly obliged, somehow pulling her even closer to him. Kissing him was simmering, electrical, vibrating….

Wait. Vibrating? Why was there vibrating? And why was it coming from her pants… She pulled away abruptly, and he looked at her, confused. She frowned as she reached into her back pocket and retrieved her phone. An unknown number appeared on her screen. Killian still had his arms wrapped around her, and she stepped away from him with an apologetic look. He was still breathing heavily, and observed her with darkened eyes as she hit accept.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice breathier than normal.

"Emma?" a man replied. She frowned. His voice sounded familiar. "It's David. Mary Margaret gave me your number a while back in case of emergency." Emma felt her stomach drop.

"And is there an emergency?" she asked, her voice sharp. Killian looked at her worriedly.

"Well, I'm not sure. You know how I said I would keep an eye out for Mr. Gold?" he asked, and she replied in the positive. "Well, I saw him earlier at the store buying duct tape and rope." Emma stilled.

"And?" she pushed further.

"And, I just saw him driving Mr. French's delivery truck into the woods." Oh crap. She paced away from Killian, immediately going into sheriff mode.

"Do you have any idea where he might be going?" she asked, heading towards the parking lot. The crunch of footsteps behind her told her that Killian wasn't too far behind.

"It looked like he was heading towards an old cabin in the woods. I've stumbled across it a few times while hiking, but it's pretty secluded," he said. She stopped, reaching into her pocket for her keys.

"Send me the directions," she told him and hung up as soon as he gave an affirmative. Her phone buzzed a few moments later just as she was able to yank the sheriff's car door open. The clearing of a throat made her turn around. Killian stood behind her, looking confused.

"Is everything alright love?" he asked. His hair was slightly disheveled from their earlier interaction, and Emma had to restrain herself from brushing it back and running her hands through it again.

"Emergency sheriff business. I have to go," she said, sounding apologetic. His shoulders slumped a little and she stepped away from the car to intertwine their hands. Not saying a word, she leaned her forehead against his. He smiled down at her, his eyes soft as he leaned back and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"I understand, love." She glanced down at his lips for a moment, but forced herself to turn away. He didn't say anything else as she got into the car and quickly shut the door behind her. As she drove away, she watched him in the rear-view mirror and saw him touch his lips in an awed gesture. Her stomach fluttered and she did the same. Yep. She was in trouble. But not nearly as much trouble as Gold would be in when she found him.

* * *

 **(Slight, but not really, spoilers)**

 **So I was absolutely crushed after 5x20, even though I know everything will be alright. Anyway, I thought some CS fluff and a first kiss would help take my mind off of such feels. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and kept with me through this story. And remember, I absolutely love reviews!**


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